


Save the Kid, Save the World - Season 2

by Editor1



Series: Save the Kid, Save the World [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Adding a female character Joss Whedon can't torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It, Fixing Joss Whedon's Mistakes, I made this as close to Canon as possible, Major Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editor1/pseuds/Editor1
Summary: Second season of fixing the error that was Connor's character assassination. The fate of Angel Investigations is changed forever with the introduction of a character that shouldn't be there. The question is, what will come to pass from messing with fate and the Powers That Be?This fic will cover everything from S3E17 "Forgiving" to hopefully at least S4E06 "Spin the Bottle", perhaps as far as S4E09 "Long Day's Journey". Events will take place as normal unless otherwise changed by the rogue character.Previous season exclusively covers Connor and takes place in Quor'toth. Read that first for a greater understanding of what the fuck is going on.
Relationships: Angel (BtVS)/Cordelia Chase, Connor (AtS)/Original Female Character(s), Cordelia Chase/The Groosalugg, Lilah Morgan/Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Winifred "Fred" Burkle/Charles Gunn
Series: Save the Kid, Save the World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050509
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Forgiving

The first twenty-four hours were chaos.

Fred and Gunn went in search of Wesley and the reason behind his betrayal, only to come back empty-handed and more confused than before. Angel, broken and cold, ordered Lorne to research everything he could about a dimension no one had ever heard of. When Fred and Gunn returned, the vampire ordered following any reports they could find on a girl with red eyes and black hair in the city. He had nothing more to give them than that, and in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t expect much. But he didn’t have time to sit and talk.

God, he wouldn’t have been able to sit down and talk if he tried. When he’d spared enough time to tell them what he’d seen, the faces they’d made weren’t promising either. They’d asked him if he was sure some girl had run in after his son, and he didn’t bother to deign them with a response.

A part of him didn’t believe it. But the other part of him couldn’t afford to dismiss it.

But he wasn’t about to let their disbelief get in the way of his next steps. There was hell to pay on many sides, and he would take it on one at a time in any way to get to his son. Chilling hatred filled his mind whenever he recalled Wesley’s name. Whenever they found him, that betrayer’s time would come, god, would it come. The vampire wouldn’t be surprised if the man had skipped town after handing his son over to his worst enemy. It didn’t matter. Angel would find him. 

Even when Lorne came to him with the dark news of Quor’toth really was, Angel didn’t pause. It didn’t matter if getting to the worst hell dimension was supposed to be impossible. So what if it was sealed off from the rest of the multiverse? He’d dealt with the impossible numerous times. Angel was methodical, and if it meant having to torture Linwood to get a hold of what he needed, then he would.

“Who is Sahjhan?” He quietly asked the man, the spindle close enough to his eye for the lashes to kiss it. In the back room of the hotel, the old employee of Wolfram and Hart law firm sat bound and silently terrified. What had been a series of legal threats had now turned into holding back every whining excusatory attempt to save his hide. The bald spot on the man’s head shone with sweat.

Behind the vampire, the plate of torture equipment was haphazardly sprawled but ready for action. Lorne, watching over them, green in the face, realized he’d made a terrible mistake following the vamp in after telling him he couldn’t do something, and held back words of protest. The demon didn’t need a song reading of his soul to know that interference could be a death sentence. “And who was that girl?” The vampire continued. “And how do I get my hands on them?”

Linwood broke like an egg. Of course, it didn’t come to torture, because the man was a coward, but Angel wouldn’t have cared either way. He had the full force of Wolfram and Hart behind him. Lorne could feel something worse on the horizon.

Which led Angel to this: In the center of his least favorite place on earth, with Lilah nattering in his ear, leading him to his destination when he could not have cared less. Surrounding him were the nervous faces of other employees. He barely paid attention as they kept close to the walls of the Law Firm’s main building, avoiding his eye contact whenever possible. Wolfram and Hart smelled like death, no matter how shiny they tried to make it. They could keep telling him he smelled the same all they wanted, but Angel’s nose was better than theirs. And their own stench made him sick to his stomach.

“Linwood,” she remarked, “you’re really stepping up to it.” Lilah frustratingly kept pace with the vampire that stormed down the hall, continuing the one-sided conversation he still hadn’t responded to. She turned, almost excited, and his mouth soured. “The white room – I mean they just don’t talk about it. God, the white room… I served three years before I even heard of it.” She paused, curious. “Did he tell you what was in it?”

He turned to her, and for the first time felt a spark of something other than hatred. Out of all the things that Lilah had bothered to tell him, there was one she was being mysteriously quiet about, and he didn’t like the way she skirted around the topic. He didn’t want to bother with her. But he couldn’t help it. He needed someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. 

“You were there,” he said, his voice quiet. “That night. You saw her, didn’t you?”

“Saw who?” She raised a brow.

“Don’t play games with me.”

The Wolfram and Hart employee sighed deep, and shifted from foot to foot as though bringing up a topic better left alone. “If you mean that girl, yes, I did. It’s been less than a day and no word on who she is.”

“For your firm, I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe me, Angel, we’re looking too. A lot of things happened that night and it’s a miracle we’re all still alive. Some girl throwing herself into a hell dimension after those two isn’t high on our list of priorities. Besides, they’re all dead anyways, right?”

“Did you hear what she said?” His voice grew dangerously quiet.

“What are you talking about?”

“Before she entered the portal, did you hear what she said?”

“No,” Lilah said dismissively. “I was standing a hundred feet away. Why, what did she say?”

He turned back to the company elevator.

“Answers,” he said instead. “Up or down?”

Lilah drew closer. “What did she say, Angel?”

He was silent, staring hard at the elevator with his hand balled into a fist. It was faintly shaking.

She swallowed, and pressed the button to call the elevator.

“Up,” she said softly.

…

They stood motionless in a plane of white, the Wolfram and Hart building left far behind them. It was a stark, cold place, and came with the faint sensation of being submerged under waves. As they looked around at the strangely blinding, bright spiderweb styled structures and a never-ending corridor, the both of them turned to see the little girl sitting in a chair dressed in red. Her eyes, heartless and musical, stared right at them. Into them.

Angel didn’t like the way her eyes reflected age beyond his own.

“Angel,” she greeted. “Lilah.” She looked to Lilah’s fingernails, back to their faces, then grimaced. It didn’t reach her eyes. Lilah’s throat bobbed as she gulped. The chill running down her spine was grating on her nerves. Just another thing Wolfram and Hart had never elected to tell her.

“Normally I’d compliment your fingernails,” the little girl said. “You see, I _love_ red. But I think there’s something more important we should be talking about. It would have been nice to talk more. Oh well.” Her eyes settled on Angel. “I think you know what I mean, don’t you?”

“The demon named Sahjhan has taken my son,” he answered gruffly, his hackles raised. He shifted as her probing gaze continued, but he refused to give into the thing that wasn’t what it seemed.

“Aw, do you want your little baby back?” She teased. Angel started towards her, and Lilah grabbed his shoulder to pull him back. He glanced to the Wolfram and Hart employee, and she silently shook her head.

“That’s not the problem here, Angel,” the little girl said. “Baby’s gone. But there’s a mystery on our hands. And I don’t like mystery much.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about her?”

“That’s the problem.” The little girl shrugged. “I don’t. I was going to ask you, but I know no one bothers to tell you anything. We’re both stuck.” She paused thoughtfully. “I can tell you that she shouldn’t have been there. And whatever she is, she’s not human.”

“What do you mean she shouldn’t have been there? What does it have to do with my son?” For the first time since Connor’s disappearance, his voice was raised, and Lilah took couple steps back. The girl giggled strangely at the outburst, then frowned.

“I like conflict, but I hate chaos,” she said. “And that girl is nothing but chaos. Her being there upsets the order of the universe, and now it’s going to try to correct itself.”

Angel’s frown deepened.

“I know you came here looking for something,” the girl continued. “But if you do end up finding that girl, and have the opportunity to fix things - well, I guess telling you to do something is useless. I just don’t like not knowing.” She smiled. “But you’re not here for that, are you? You want Sahjhan… Nowadays you can walk right through him. But in the past, he was something else.” She tilted her head thoughtfully to the side. “A Granok demon. They were all about torture, and death. You can relate. But they caused a lot of trouble. Don’t get me wrong, I like trouble.” She smiled. “But I hate chaos. So we changed them.”

“You made them immaterial,” Angel murmured.

Her smile widened. “Smart boy. Now they watch, and they can no longer touch. Well…” She pursed her lips. “There’s a special urn. They’re expensive, and hard to come by.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know these things always come with a price.” She turned to Lilah, and her eyes lit up in that strange chill that the woman was growing sick of. “Kill her.”

Angel didn’t hesitate. His hands were around the human woman’s neck before Lilah knew to react. But just as he was about to twist, the little girl let out a high pitched, squealing laugh. 

“That’s good for now,” she said. Lilah made a soft terrified grunt as he slowly pulled away, and rubbed where his thumbs had dug in. “I can see why they respect you. Now, as to your demon made flesh, it’s a big ritual. Alllll here.” She held up a folded piece of paper, then it disappeared immediately in her hands. He could feel it in his fist, and held it tighter. “Can’t wait to see how it turns out,” she said with a wry smile. But just as Angel felt like the talk was over, she paused, and gave him a look. “One last thing, though. About that girl that isn’t a girl. If you find her again, don’t trust her. Not for my sake. For yours.”

The words haunted Angel long after Lilah and him were cast out of the room.

Looking back, one could so easily see the pieces working together. There was a reason that ritual was chosen, and a reason its consequences would be so convenient. Of course, the little girl that was Mesektet could have never known this. She would never have wished it if she would have known it would cause the events that would lead to her own demise at the hands of the Beast. But the Powers That Be are strange in their ability to influence choice, and the spell that disappeared from her hands and appeared in his was just another drop in the fateful bucket.

The story continued exactly as planned. Fred and Gunn discovered the false prophecy that the father would kill the son and put the pieces together of a perfectly tragic story. Wesley had taken the child for a reason, but that didn’t mean that the father would ever forgive him. Then Angel summoned the dark magic spell despite his friend’s reservation, Sahjhan was made flesh, and the vampire full of hate and revenge brought down the possibility of a second apocalypse.

Even when Angel finally had the chance to talk to the demon that had doomed his son, and to offer a deal to go to Quor’toth to get Connor back, it blew up in his face. The Granok demon could open the worst of the hell dimensions only once, or else endanger the entire universe. Besides, why would he help the vampire get the demon’s predestined killer out from his certified death sentence?

That was the worst blow. That it was never about Angel. And now, it would never be about Connor, either, the boy with the bright future. The boy that would become a man strong enough to rival all other warriors. And the boy that was supposed to be Angel’s son.

It took the help of a previous enemy just to right things. Justine had the stupid urn to get rid of the stupid demon thanks to Holtz’s failsafe he kept locked away, so that was at least one problem squared away – that Angel caused, mind you. But did he feel better, being unable to highhandedly defeat the demon that had taken his son away? Did it make him feel better to know that Sahjhan was trapped and unable to escape in some urn, still technically alive? Did it make him feel better to know that the prophecy wasn’t real, and that Sahjhan, the time demon that he was, was able to change true prophecy to secure his survival?

Angel had gotten nothing, _nothing._ The world had screwed him over at every turn. This wasn’t even a moment of pure happiness. This was just supposed to be rest. But not even that. Never rest. Never respite.

In the end, Lorne’s words of comfort didn’t really sink in. ‘ _You did everything you could with the knowledge you had._ _Just like Wesley._ ’

Just like the man that had doomed his son. Just like the man that had given his boy over to his own worst enemy.

In that hospital bed, bathed in white, the ex-watcher looked disgusting. Wesley looked up at him, hopeful, with a neck still healing from the damage Justine had done when she had mugged him for the child. The man was an idiot to let it get that far in the first place. He deserved everything that had ever happened to him. But it wasn’t enough. This friend that looked up at him shouldn’t be alive. Not while his son was gone.

His hands around Wesley’s neck never felt so good.


	2. The Price

Angel stared at the empty crib in the center of the dark, unkempt hotel room. It was the only thing left untouched, every other piece of furniture shattered, broken, or otherwise left to collect dust. A chill floated in through the window as night fell once again on Los Angeles. He hadn’t bothered to close it. He was too busy staring at the little bed. It looked so small. Staring at it, he could still remember the sound of his son’s laugh. The times he’d looked straight at him and smiled. The times that only Angel’s vampire face would make him stop crying. His tiny hands wrapped around Angel’s finger, held tight and snug.

The worst part of all of this was that he still lived in hope.

Two weeks.

He couldn’t get it out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d get another vision of the same girl speaking to Sahjhan so confidently.

They hadn’t known each other. The time demon had been surprised, confused. Everyone had. That night – hell, he could replay the scene over and over and never forget it – that night, she’d told that Granok it was none of his business. See you in two weeks. Angel had been barely conscious, and he’d still heard it.

Two weeks.

She knew something no one else did, and it was destroying his mind.

Gunn and Fred had found no reports of a girl with black hair that fit the description from either police or the underbelly, but of course they wouldn’t. They didn’t even think she was real. No one did. For a time, a part of him didn’t either.

Angel’s brow softened. After visiting the white room, he wasn’t surprised the two of them had come up empty-handed. If something like that… Thing didn’t know what she was, or where she had come from, then they were in deep. And they didn’t have a dedicated researcher to go fishing for far-reaching answers anymore, not that he missed the traitor.

He didn’t blame Fred and Gunn for thinking that he had flown off the handle. He’d put them into danger trying to defeat Sahjhan. He’d been reckless, far more reckless than he ever had before. His rage had nearly taken out the few friends he had left, along with a good chunk of random innocent bystanders.

And he could still feel that deep anger prickling just beneath the surface of his skin. Now that he was more aware of it, he was haunted by it alongside the grief. Black magic. Revenge. Torture. Murder. Whatever it would take to get his son, the very one that everyone seemed to believe was dead.

Dead, he thought. That’s what everyone had decided to believe. Fred, Gunn, Lorne, they were in another room, believing he was grieving. Angel was in here in a silent vigil for his son’s death, they probably thought. And maybe he would have been, if it weren’t for those two words.

Two weeks. Two weeks.

He hated this. Because he couldn’t look at the crib and bring himself to grieve. Not when she’d said two weeks. That tiny kernel of hope was enough to worm its way in and hold him close like a tiny salve to a mortal wound. He should have known better than to think the universe would give him something like that, but he couldn’t help but pretend it could be true.

Behind him, the door to the nursery opened quietly, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Cordelia approaching like she might a wounded deer. Her hands, settling on his shoulder, did little to help him. Still dressed in her vacation clothes, and still smelling like the ocean, and like Groo. Angel hoped she’d had a good time. The two lovebirds deserved a chance to rest and be happy, doing whatever they were doing, especially Cordelia. Now that she was coming back to this… He could empathise with that expression on her face. Hopelessness. Yeah, he felt it too.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered gently as she sat down beside him and leaned closer. Her arms draped around his shoulders, and for just a second, he had the urge to relax. 

Angel swallowed, still staring at the empty crib. There were so many things he wanted to say. Something was wrong, he wanted to tell her, something didn’t add up. There were still parts of this that not even Wolfram and Hart understood. That girl didn’t exist, and the fact that she was there meant… well, it meant _something._ Angel couldn’t give up on that something. Not when she’d said what she’d said.

But as he continued to quietly stare, the words wouldn’t come out right. “He’s not… He’s not gone,” he said breathlessly, his voice a ghost. It was desperate, more than honest, and he knew he’d messed up the moment the words had left his lips.

“Oh, Angel.” She gripped him tighter and went quiet. He winced. She wouldn’t touch the denial she thought she’d heard. Not with a ten foot pole.

Eventually, Cordelia told the others what had happened with the vampire. It wasn’t something they should fight with him about, she insisted. Even if it wasn’t true, it’s possible he needed this. He needed time.

The solemn Fred agreed, but it didn’t sit right with Gunn to continue to let Angel live on false hope. That was the worst kind of torture, allowing yourself to go on thinking that a loved one could still come back from the brink, and he knew that well. And a baby? There was no way the poor kid was going to make it back from Quor’toth, it just wasn’t possible. But, as he glanced to his girlfriend who seemed so broken, he kept his mouth shut, and decided to just go along with it. Fred had spent more time than anyone ever needed to stranded in a hell dimension. He couldn’t bring himself to outright say something like that and hurt her in the process.

And Lorne, well, Lorne hummed and hawed for a while on it. After that hell on Earth Angel had unleashed in the first day of Connor’s disappearance, the host was just happy that there wasn’t any more cold hard vampire going out to ruthlessly murder the first human that looked at him the wrong way. They hadn’t quite gotten that far, but it had been close. The vibes that the vampire had given off were read by the Pylian demon even without the singing, and they weren’t ones he was ever going to mess with. Now, he only saw quiet reflection. And if Angel was doing the five stages of grief, then denial wasn’t so bad, right? In fact, maybe this was healthy for him, Lorne argued. The guy needed to get through this in his own way. And besides, he concluded, did anyone actually _want_ to try and convince Angel that his son was dead?

No one could really offer any kind of disagreement with that.

It still took time. Cordelia tried her best to find a way to connect with him, but there was no connection to be made when he couldn’t admit to himself the core of his pain. When it came down to it, she could never quite get him to admit what she knew was hurting him the most. She could only watch from the other side of the room with the empty crib, sitting in her chair, and holding the book in her hands that she had long since stopped trying to read, while Angel stared out the window with his mind so far away that she would never be able to catch it. He was floating away from her into the land of impossibilities. Not somewhere that would hurt him or even somewhere that would keep him away from her forever, but just away. Somewhere where the realities hurt a little less.

Two weeks would continue to reign in his head until those two weeks would finally come and go. And as he came to terms with that, the weight on his shoulders shifted enough that he could bear it and still stand up. If he waited two weeks, maybe after that he could finally start to grieve.

Besides, he needed to stand on his own two feet anyways. With Gunn getting himself into trouble, there was never a chance at real rest for the champion.

He couldn’t afford to lose another member of this family.

After that, to everyone else, if you overlooked the crib he refused to take down, Angel was back. Morose, depressed, still quietly holding in the grief, but back, especially when his friends needed him most. Inside his head, of course, the thoughts remained, and he silently counted down the days until he could get it out of his head and finally face the horrific reality. But after that, this nightmare would be over, and he could finally begin coming to terms with the loss. Right?

Of course, then the stupid slugs invaded the hotel that was their base of operations, and he stopped thinking about any possibilities. There was yet another serious problem and it was all his fault. Now he was paying for it. This was the price of dark magic, and he should have known better. It seemed the universe was insistent on reminding him of the consequences of daring to feel upset. How dare he try and rectify something that had done him so wrong?

He couldn’t really keep up with that selfish logic. He’d put into danger countless people and possibly killed others with an end of the world scenario on the horizon. Fred was infected and that was his fault, plus there was a mass horde of the things from another world in their swimming pool, and they seemed to be running away from a much, MUCH bigger problem of the Destroyer that he’d have to deal with soon enough. All, once again, his fault.

And then there was the fact that Cordy was glowing in front of him with one of the creatures in her hand, barely caught in time. That… Wasn’t his fault. But it was very confusing and more than a little alarming. He took a step back in confusion with the battle axe in his hands. She looked just as terrified as he felt.

“Angel? What’s…. Happening… To… Me?”

He had to turn away at the sudden sharp light that burst from her body. His eyes saw only white spots. It was like a star had exploded right in front of him. The event lasted for just a moment, and when it was over, they looked at the two of each other and then at the sudden lack of slimes in their grimy basement. All gone, in an instant. Obliterated.

“I did it?’ She said in disbelief, hesitating a smile. “I did it! Uh, what exactly did I do?”

“I don’t know,” he breathed. “But we should find the others. Fred.”

In the lobby of the hotel the lights were switching on as the sudden explosion of energy left like it was never there. The group that had been standing there with Fred looked around blearily as the sharp lights overhead dotted their vision. “Okay,” Lorne said, “Unless anyone else has something, let me be the first to say what the _hell_ was that?”

“Cordelia,” Angel answered. He flew into the lobby with Cordy close at his heels, the woman behind him grinning up a storm. “That was Cordelia.”

“You are truly a goddess,” Groo crooned as he flew to the woman’s side. The champion of Pylea gave her a warm hug as Gunn and Lorne gently laid down Fred on the couch by the lobby’s front desk. After getting slug rolling around in her body, the poor girl was still reeling, the alcohol she’d chugged to get it to leave her probably hadn’t helped either.

“Well, demoness anyway.” Cordelia smiled, holding Groo in relief as she snuggled into his neck. “Mmm, beats horns and a tail.”

“Hey, I’m standing right here,” Lorne scoffed.

“She okay?” Angel asked, after placing the battle axe he’d chosen for the fight back into his cabinet or weapons. All accounted for, he affirmed as he gave it a quick once over before joining the others around the Fred. The girl’s face clammy and ice cold to the touch.

“Uh… Yeah,” Gunn said as he stood back up to face him. A very sudden, metaphorical wall rose up between them. Lorne looked to Gunn, Groo looked to Lorne, and Cordelia watched Angel carefully. No one said a word. They didn’t need to. Everyone was aware of what Gunn had done. “I got this idea. Alcohol, dehydrates the body, gets the slug out.” 

Angel crossed his arms.

Gunn’s mouth twitched.

“Okay, so I took off when those things started coming out of the floor,” Gunn confessed reluctantly. “It’s not like I was running out on you, I was…” He glanced around at the others gathered around Fred, at Angel’s solemn expression, and he hardened his resolve.

“Look. Someone I care about was dying. And I couldn’t just sit around and debate strategy. I saw an opportunity to… To get some kind of help.”

Angel watched him silently. Gun frowned as he held back more. Going to Wesley to figure out how to save his girlfriend wasn’t something he was going to apologize for. Yes, the traitor was a sore subject. Yes, he still believed that Angel had the right to be upset. But he’d done what he’d done, and he didn’t regret breaking the unspoken rule between all of them.

“I did what I had to do,” he said, “and if you don’t get that …” His voice trailed off. The lines in Angel’s frown had changed, and for a moment, he’d looked desperately sad.

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

“So, we good?” Angel asked.

As Gunn quietly nodded, Lorne broke in, leaning over the couch they had Fred splayed over. “Good?” He said in disbelief. “We’re not good. Is everybody forgetting we got a little unexpected company on the way? It goes by the initials of “The Destroyer?””

“The Destroyer.” Fred sat up suddenly with her heart beating out of her chest, grabbing for the couch to hold herself steady. “I remember the Destroyer’s coming.”

“Yeah, we get that,” Cordelia said impatiently. “Any idea when?”

“Um…” Fred looked between the group of them from her couch, lost and scared. “I think… Now?” Her voice raised an octave as she looked over to the center of the hotel’s lobby.

Lightning struck, arcing up from the high ceiling all the way to the middle, and the lights went out with a flash. Cracks echoed as the center of the room began to shimmer, shake, and violently twist. Particles of energy sped through the air. Everyone’s hackles rose as the charge seemed to affect their body’s as much as the environment around it. Something terrifying was pulling at them, telling them just how wrong this thing was that broke apart in front of them. Angel recognized the ominous feeling well.

It was a blink-and-you-miss-it moment: a sudden crack, and suddenly there was standing before them a monster considerably larger than a slug. The horned creature rose on two legs with its slimy skin and roared, the rows of jowls and teeth vibrating with the force of the noise. Angel’s eyes widened as it screeched, then drew its head back to lunge toward them. They were unprotected, exhausted his case of weapons were across the room, and Fred was unconscious. They weren’t ready.

Then the electricity took over again, and two people came rolling out of the rift.

The boy landed first, bunny kicking out sharply at the screeching demon, and the girl – _that_ girl – got it sent right to her. She leapt up onto the thing’s neck, locking her legs around it and biting down hard with teeth like a shark’s. With her jaw, she pulled the monster’s neck back, giving the boy the perfect opportunity to slash its neck open and let out a torrent of blood that he narrowly sidestepped. The monster gurgled as it went down hard in front of him, and the girl jumped from it with a cat’s grace back to the ground.

As she landed on her feet, she fell back beside the kid that was crouched, and rubbed the back of her neck with a groan.

“Okay,” she grunted as she stretched up to her full height. “You were right. Should have hunted for the mate first, _then_ start punching. But y’know, to be fair, it’s not every day you get a ticket out of that hell… hole…” 

She trailed off at the six pairs of eyes.

Connor rose up slowly. That scent of death was unmistakable, and as they stared at each other, there was no mincing of words. Angel knew that this was his son. And Connor knew this was his father.

“Hi, dad,” he said.

“My God…”Angel’s voice left him. Two weeks. On the dot. “It’s you,” he whispered. “Connor.”

“Yeah,” the Destroyer said coldly. “It’s me.”

“Holy crap, Angel…” Cordelia called behind him, her eyes glued to the boy that had been a baby only two weeks before. “You were right.”

The fire demon casually learned against Connor’s shoulder. The kid looked like he was about to start firing his hand crossbow. The touch made his shoulders relax ever so slightly. But she couldn’t do anything about the inherent strain. Forget meeting his father for the first time, these were the first people he’d ever seen besides her and Holtz. “Didn’t expect us to end up in the middle of the fucking hotel,” she murmured. “Porting somewhere else could’ve given us at least a _little_ more time.”

Her eyes glided over the others and tried to remember what little information she could. The girl with the glasses – Fred, she knew that, easy enough And then there was the other guy… Gunn? Sounded about right, he looked like a Gunn. Lorne was a slam dunk, obviously. And then the other guy, with the weirdly bright eyes, yeah no clue on that one, standing beside –

Cordelia.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Am I missing something here? Who are you?” Gunn shifted closer to Fred. His eyes were on the crossbow that looked like nothing he’d ever seen before, and the blade that seemed more like a scythe than an actual sword.

“It’s Connor,” Angel repeated like mantra. “That’s my son.” His voice cracked. “My son.” He didn’t need to hear the boy’s voice. There was a scent. And a feeling. There was no denying it, right before his eyes was his son. And the girl that had brought him here.

“Are we sure about that?” Gunn questioned.

“Don’t, Gunn,” Fred quietly cut in. Her small voice was enough to shut up Gunn immediately. She looked to Angel tentatively. “If he’s sure then…” She gave Connor a confused once over. “Then I believe Angel.”

“It’s him,” the vampire dismissed. “I’d never forget that scent.” Angel slowly moved forward, his voice low, his arms spread slightly outward to show he carried no weapons. “Connor. Do you remember me?”

Cold and strained, Connor watched the vampire’s movements carefully. His automatic reaction was the crossbow filled with wooden bolts on his arm for this exact purpose, but then a familiar warm hand squeezed his shoulder tight, and he was shaken out of his thoughts again. Shift leaned in closer, and he nearly smiled.

“You’re Angel,” Connor turned from Shift, his eyes dropping back to dull stones. “My father. The vampire. I know who you are. My real father explained more than enough.”

Angel swallowed. “Your real father.”

“Holtz,” the girl answered. “He’s talking about Holtz.” Immediately, there was a pit in the vampire’s stomach.

He watched the girl closely. Black hair, red eyes, dark skin, the same grey clothes, just like he’d remembered from before. Too exact. If it weren’t for some grime and blood, she would have looked _exactly_ like she had two weeks ago. It was uncanny. And yet, Connor… His Connor, in animal skins and tall and broad chested and he had his mother eyes and he couldn’t look too hard at the boy anymore without his heart breaking. 

Angel eyes were glued to her, and Shift wasn’t exactly surprised. On guard, but she’d expected this from the beginning. Now the real fight began, and one she wasn’t equipped for either. Convincing people she wasn’t evil wasn’t the same as fighting them into respecting her. Angel wasn’t Connor. 

“Connor, Holtz – it doesn’t matter.” Angel caught himself. There would be time to talk later. Right now, he didn’t want to mess this up. This was his second chance, his _only s_ econd chance. He knew there was no way the universe would ever give him another. “There are so many things I never… God, look at you. Son, I… I’ve missed you so much.”

“I haven’t.”

Angel’s chest panged.

“Well,” he muttered. “I’m glad you back. I’m glad you’re safe.” He took a step forward, and Connor’s hand flew to his blade.

“I’m not,” Connor said harshly. “You’re here. You, and all the others with you.” He looked over each of the group much like he did for any demon he encountered in the wild. Defenses. Weaknesses. But they didn’t look much different than human. And they had heartbeats just like his. It confused him that humans could work for such a monster. Did they not know what he was?

“Connor,” Cordelia breathed. Her eyes were soft, and though she didn’t move, her voice alone seemed to change something in the boy. Though his grip remained, more of that strain left him. Shift could feel it beneath her hands. And she ground her pointed teeth into her gums until she tasted her own blood.

Angel felt an instinctual urge to attack.

“Let’s put this aside for now,” the girl with black hair said. She gently patted the Destroyer’s shoulder, then walked around him to address the group a little too close for comfort, her hands automatically finding their way into her pockets.

“It’s great to finally meet you all, sorry for the sudden bursting in and all. Yes,” she pulled her hands out to motion toward the young man, “this is Connor. Yes, he’s way older than he should be. We just escaped the Quor’toth. That’s a wormhole that made eighteen years pass in two weeks and it’s maybe the _tenth_ least fucky thing we’re dealing with right now. We would appreciate just a little leniency, maybe some time for this guy to get used to people - ”

“Eighteen years?” Lorne echoed in disbelief.

“Of course that’s what you care about,” she groaned.

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “I remember you.”

She turned around slowly to face him and nodded her head in greeting. “And I, you, vamp.”

The vampire’s hackles rose, his stare intensified, and she took a few hesitant steps back until she was right up against Connor’s chest. “Hey man, just trying to start off on the right foot here. I don’t want any of you thinking I’m the bad guy.”

“Who are you?” Angel demanded.

“Yeah!” Fred added. Gunn looked to her, and she grimaced. “This is the girl we’ve been looking for for _ages_ , Gunn. Aren’t you curious?”

“Her name is Shift,” Connor said gruffly.

“What he said,” Shift raised a finger behind her and prodded Connor’s cheek. “But listen, guys. I’m not here because I got any kind of funny business agenda, okay?”

“Easy for you to say,” Gunn argued. “You disappeared into that rip in time with Connor and you expect us to just accept that? Naw man, I’m not about that.”

“Gunn is correct,” Groo added. “She is a capable fighter. But there is much we do not know.”

“I’m literally trying to come clean here! I was there to help Connor and now look, he’s back, see?” She squeezed his jaw gently. “Alive ‘n kicking.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you knew about the rip in the first place,” Lorne cut in, already over-thinking things in a way that Shift was sure would lead to extra problems. “If it wasn’t convenience, then leads one to wonder how you could have known, or who told you?”

The fire demon deflated. “Okay. I get it. Before you start interrogating me, does _anyone_ have a mirror?”

“Mirror?” Angel’s eyebrow raised

“Yeah, one sec.”

She was quick. One moment she was leaning casually against the Destroyer’s front, the next she was sliding over the counter to the hotel lobby and rooting through the office on the other side. Connor, confused and perturbed at being left alone, began to shift uncomfortably in his position between the exit and her now much further away than he cared for.

“A mirror. I’ve been dealing with the biggest teeth for the past eighteen years and I wanna make sure it’s not fucking permanent.” She held up a little hand mirror and pulled her lips open to reveal an alarming set of fangs, then sighed with relief as she set it down. “Okay. Face is fine. We’re fine. Fuck yeah.”

“Excuse me!” Lorne snapped as he turned abruptly. Gunn and Groo followed quickly, and soon she was surrounded and blocked in at all sides, stuck on the other side of the counter. Cordelia and Fred watched on in confusion while the two men grew slowly closer, and Connor took one hasty step closer with his shoulders hunched and ready for combat, then stopped when he glanced once again back to the door. A low, frustrated growl elicited from his mouth. “You don’t just go rifling through someone’s things like that young lady – you still haven’t explained who you are, how you got here – or what you’re doing with our kiddo over there!”

“Lorne, I love ya, but I’m not in the mood.” She pointed the mirror at him. “You try living in the worst hell dimension ever thought of for eighteen years.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Fred mumbled.

“No, I think I’m on Lorne’s side,” Gunn said, already eyeing the weapons’ cabinet that was unfortunately on the other side of the room. “We got a kid that’s aged eighteen years in two weeks just showing up at our door, and a demon that – hasn’t aged a day.” He frowned. “What’s that all about?”

“Listen,” the demon began, “I can explain –“

“Yeah, who exactly are you?” Cordelia questioned.

“Fuck you, Cordelia.”

“Alright, everyone here needs to calm down.” Angel raised his arms as Cordelia scoffed and Gunn and Groo went from twenty feet away to only ten away from her. Shift shared a look with Connor. His teeth gritted, and she hoped that the silent begging for more time and patience reached him. He looked like he was about to go rabid, and these guys weren’t helping. “Please. There’s a lot to talk about, but let’s focus on one thing at a time. My son is back,” he said, his face slowly turning into a wide, ear-splitting grin. “Connor’s alive.”

“Connor’s got a bolt aimed for your heart.” Gunn said back to him.

“Joker,” Shift warned. “You promised.”

The group turned around simultaneously, and Connor slowly lowering the arm with the crossbow, his eyes still piercing and desperate.

“Connor?” Angel murmured.

He growled. “I promised her I wouldn’t kill you,” he said through strained teeth. 

“Promised her – why would you…” Angel trailed off. “Holtz.”

“Yeah, he’s a fucking asshole,” The fire demon leaned over the counter and grinned. Every movement seemed to make the rest of the group flinch, and she was still watching Groo and Gunn out of the corner of her eye. “But you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Angel? Imagine having to deal with him the _entire time._ I’m surprised I’m still sane.”

“I want to leave this place,” Connor spat. “You said we could go. I want to explore a club.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed, then waved around at the two men watching her like hawk, not to mention the others that would surely back them up. “But take a look around, joker, how the hell we gonna get through this? Though, I mean,” she gave a sidelong look toward the exit, “if we planned it right…” 

“Wait, hold up, you can’t just leave!” Gunn rushed closer, but Connor’s aim turned immediately on him as he rushed closer. Angel reached out to grab his son, but the Destroyer easily avoided the grasp with a jump and dodge that went far higher than the vampire had expected. The kid landed on the other side of Shift, crossbow in one arm and the sword in the other, trained directly on Gunn. His back pressed up against hers, his decision made for better or worse. They’d leave when they could leave together, and not a second before.

“Don’t try anything,” he barked at Gunn. “I’ll kill you.”

“We just want to talk to you, Connor.” Angel said gently. “I… I want to talk to you.” There was a deep hatred in the glare cast toward the vampire, there was no denying that. So much misinformation that Holtz must have pumped through his mind, there was no telling how long that might take to get through. And no telling how that girl might have complicated matters. Angel’s mind was filled with bittersweet musings.

“And you,” scoffed Cordelia at the fire demon. “I don’t know _how_ you know my name, but I’m not comfortable letting some, some _lippy_ demon from Quor’toth roam free.”

“Fuck you Cordelia.”

“How dare you insult my goddess!” Groo squared his shoulders and approached the fire demon with all the confidence of one used to being the strongest. His height, more than a head higher, looked down at her with the noble intimidation of a warrior facing a villain. Connor’s crossbow turned on him from Gunn in an instant. Shift sighed. “I will defend her honor until my dying breath!”

“Sorry, who the fuck are you?” The demon tiredly asked.

“I am the Groosalugg! Champion of Pylea and the keeper of my goddess Cordelia’s heart.”

“You make me want to gouge my own ears out.”

“Well, the both of you aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart,” Lorne said. “So you might as well get used to it. Hate to break it to ya but after the stunt you pulled, there are some questions that need answering.”

“We’ll go where we want,” Connor snarled. “You can’t keep us here, demon. I have no deal to keep you alive.” He aimed the crossbow at Lorne’s face, who quickly ducked out of the way and behind the couch.

“Excuse me!” Lorne exclaimed from behind the furniture. “I don’t know what crawled up your behind and died but around here we don’t tolerate that kind of talk.” 

“I should have expected this,” The demon sighed. “Honestly, who was I to think that the universe would spin things our way?” She elbowed the Destroyed in the side and gave him a meaningful look. He slowly, reluctantly, let the crossbow drop.

“We can take them,” Connor argued half-heartledly. “I’ll take Angel, the angry man, and…” He looked to Cordelia and Fred, “the girl. And you take out the demon, the one that says weird things, and the other girl, with the pieces of glass on her face.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? I’d set the place on fire!”

“Fire?” Gunn backed up a step. “What are we dealing with here? Angel?”

“That’s what we need to find out.” Angel’s eyes narrowed. “No one’s leaving this hotel until we get answers. If you have nothing to hide, then that won’t be a problem for you. Right?”

“No,” Connor said. Shift reached behind and grasped his hand.

“Humor them, joker,” she muttered. “I have a feeling they’re only going be a thorn in our sides as long as we run from them. The drinks will have to wait.”

“I don’t like this,” he grumbled. “We could kill them all.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. But trust me, not something we want. These aren’t bad people, joker. They’re just really fucking annoying.” She turned to Angel, her red eyes meeting his. His mouth twitched into a deeper frown, and she rolled her eyes. So much for getting off on the right foot.

“Alright, that sound good enough for you, vamp?” She asked. “You ready call your dogs off now? Or we gonna have to do this the hard way?”

Angel crossed his arms.

“Oh, I think we’ll be doing things my way.”


	3. Father

Shift had expected complications. What she hadn’t expected were the chains locking her arms in place behind a goddamned chair.

Connor sat on the floor of Angel’s office sharpening his dagger against a stone from his pouch. The kid, covered in hide, stuck out like a Peter Pan sore thumb in the modern room. His hooded gaze cast over at the vampire that stood behind his desk like some kind of disapproving school principal. Angel had this way of leaning forward against the desk with his fingertips brushing the wood finish that made him look like he was about to suspend them for a week for breaking a window.

Through the glass window the rest of the group was up in arms unable to agree what to do with them. Now that Fred had recovered somewhat from the alcohol, she seemed just as loud and annoying as the rest. Shift watched them out of the corner of her eye across the lobby. The way they occasionally looked to her like nervous turkeys poking their heads out only to drop them quickly back down was simultaneously funny and depressing. It was safe to say that the weapons case was raided again, just in case.

The whisperings they thought she couldn’t hear floated on the wind to both her and the kid beside her with the supersonic hearing. A whole lotta nervous jabs in her direction, and a whole lotta lack of confidence in Angel’s decision that this was Connor. She knew she was going to get _some_ worry over her appearance, but she’d lived with the Destroyer so long that she had forgotten how humans usually saw her. Connor just saw her as a person, unflinchingly so. Those bozos were freaking about her fuckin’ eyes for fucks sake, let alone the teeth. That fear brought back memories she was better off leaving behind.

‘Course, it was the way they talked about Connor that really pissed her off. He didn’t even seem bothered, though she was sure he could hear, so she got angry for him. They kept talking about how he looked, or how they were so uncertain if it was truly him, though Angel could tell by scent and “feel”. What did that even mean? Gunn kept posing that very idea. Lorne said the how he even got back was less important than the why, and the why was clearly the vampire they’d left standing around in the office practically a sitting duck, with only a couple chains around the demon and nothing on his own violent son.

Cordelia, on the other hand, seemed more confused than anything. There was a fight, she kept saying, a fight she now realized had to have belonged to Angel and Connor. Yet it hadn’t happened, even though in the back of her mind was this nagging sensation that the moment had already come and gone. It just didn’t add up. Her visions were never wrong, and yet now… Shift sat in her chair with her fingers metaphorically crossed hoping no one was about to ask her any hard-to-answer questions. Let them get more freaked at the dimensional rip in space, it was a whole lot easier to explain.

Shift turned back to the scowling Angel instead. “Y’know,” she said, “if anybody walked in on this, I’m pretty sure they’d get the wrong idea here. Just sayin’.”

“Let’s start with how you knew where we’d be.” Angel stood up straight, and crossed his arms. “And why Wolfram and Hart don’t know a thing about you.”

She grimaced. “Spoilers?”

“See, now that’s not going to fly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Kid, listen. I killed Holtz. Isn’t that enough from you?”

She could see the relaxation in his shoulders, just a touch. A welcome sign, but that brow was still broody as all hell. “First of all, I’m not a kid,” he huffed. “But I would like to know how you managed to kill Holtz.”

The sound of metal on metal stopped as Connor abruptly halted the sharpening of his knife.

“It’s not hard to kill a human,” Shift said carefully.

Angel glanced at Connor.

“… And, we’ve dealt with it,” she clarified.

Connor glowered. “He tried to kill her. He… He was misguided.”

“About a lot of things,” she offered.

“Not everything.” Connor aimed his knife at Angel. “He’s still a vampire. He deserves to die.”

Shift sighed deeply.

“I won’t,” Connor said gruffly. “Not yet. I promised.”

“Connor,” Angel slowly began, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t care. You’ve killed enough people already.”

“I…” The vampire looked between them, then gave up on pursuing that crapshoot of a topic. “And you’ve been… what, protecting him?”

“I don’t need protecting!” Connor snarled.

“He doesn’t need protecting,” Shift said smugly.

“Then why did you go after him?” Angel demanded. “As a matter of fact, let’s go back to _how_ you knew to be there in the first place. I remember what you said. Now, you mind telling me how exactly you know that you’d be back two weeks later with a time difference that you wouldn’t even be able to calculate? Sounds a little fishy to me, don’t you think?”

Shift could do little more than shrug and squish herself further back in her seat. “I mean, I can explain, kind of… But uh, it’s not exactly an easy pill to swallow.”

Angel narrowed his eyes, and Connor glared angrily at him.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” he said.

“Why?” The vampire retorted. “What even is she to you, son?”

“I’m not your son,” Connor huffed, then sat up straight and fixed the vampire with a smug look, crossing his arms in the process. “And she’s mine.”

Shift used her feet to pull herself closer to the desk just so she could hit her head against it.

“Yours – Connor – Wait.”

The cogs turning in Angel’s head took a few seconds to get there.

“What.”

The vampire’s eyes bulged. So did the veins in his neck.

Heads in the lobby turned as Angel’s voice reached decibels anyone within a square mile could probably hear. Shift grit her teeth at the assault.

“What?! With her- ” He seethed. “You’re a child! You can’t have a girlfriend! It’s been two weeks!”

The fire demon groaned.

Angel should have known. He could smell their scents all over each other the second they’d hit the ground from that rip in space, but he hadn’t even considered _that._ It was impossible. He wouldn’t have it. He _couldn’t_ have it. A girlfriend whose age hadn’t even changed in eighteen years – he could rip her apart right then and there. She didn’t have humanity to hide behind.

“He’s eighteen, actually,” she offered as she pulled her face up from the desk.

“You knew him when he was a child – a baby! How old _are_ you?”

“Wait wait let’s back up a second here,” Shift shot up quickly with a nervous grin. “You wanted to know who I am right? What I was doing able to find your little stint? Let’s focus on that. IIIII uhhh –“ She bit her lip as she struggled to think of a good story. “I got the intel _ages_ back – total prophecy bullshit. You know all about prophecies, right? They’re the big thing around here, right? Totally – I showed up in these papyrus scrolls all official and shit. You can see me doing the Egyptian on one of ‘em. Said I was the one that would bring the son of the vampire back from the end of worlds – and – uh -”

“She’s five thousand, four hundred and twenty-seven years old,” Connor smugly crossed his arms. “Older than you. And stronger. I know. She and I have fought many times.”

Shift slowly let out a breath of air, then banged her head against the desk again. Angel rubbed his face, then dropped his hand back onto the desk. 

“I’m not letting you do this,” the vampire muttered to himself. “This is insane. This is actual insanity.”

“You don’t control me,” the Destroyer scoffed.

“Connor, I love you,” the demon sighed, “but you’re not helping your case here. Angel,” she pleaded earnestly to the made with murderous intent. “It’s not what you think. Let’s take a step back here, right? It’s been eighteen years of living in the wild, just me and this dude here. We’re not exactly up to snuff right now. Why not let go get a drink and come back around to my old self? Holtz is taken care of, thanks to me, so demon to demon, why not help me out?” She gave him a watery smile.

If looks could kill.

“You’re not even answering any of my questions, you’re _cradle-robbing_ my son, and you expect me to just let you go?”

“I wish it were as simple as me being some kind of evil demonic pedo, alright?!” She gestured as well as she could with the chains holding her down. “ _I_ stayed the fuck away from him as much as I could until he was the one that followed me around! Even then we never - And what about you and Buffy, huh?” She accused. “Aren’t you two hundred years old, champ? You may be just a kid to me, but that’s still one eighty over the slayer.”

“How do you know anything about Buffy?”

Shift closed her mouth.

“I mean, everyone knows about the slayer, right?” she nervously laughed. “That’s like the _one_ thing demons need to look out for the most.”

Angel stalked forward, this time ignoring Connor’s tracking of the crossbow on his back. The Destroyer jumped to his feet about to attack, but the vampire merely crouched down to the demon’s level, his eyes narrowed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the kid still uncertainly holding his weapon up and waiting for the chance to go back on his promise.

“How could you know anything about me, Connor, Sahjhan, or what happened that night?”

The chill in that voice would have made most anyone tremble, but Shift looked him straight in the eye, her mouth carefully slack.

“You don’t exist on paper, no one knows what you are or where you came from. I’ve got powerful beings telling me not to trust you,” he continued. “Even Wolfram and goddamn Hart don’t know what to make of you.” The wrinkles in his brow deepened. “And now you know my personal history which a few of my friends out there don’t even know about. Give me one reason to trust a thing you say.” His expression darkened. “And be honest. I’m running out of patience.”

“It’s complicated.”

His mouth soured. “Before I lose my mind and have the others take care of you – no, before I _personally_ take care of you for whatever the hell you’ve done with my son, how about I give you a chance to explain yourself, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you live?”

She sighed. “Angel stop, you’re not cute. I actually threw up in my mouth a little.” 

“You’re not helping your case,” he argued.

“She can’t be killed,” Connor said from behind the vampire. His crossbow was right at level with Angel’s heart. The man slowly turned to his son, but the boy didn’t waver. “I know. I’ve tried.”

“Everything can be killed,” Angel said in warning.

“You’d be wasting your time,” the fire demon muttered.

“Well, you know what, you’re wasting _my_ time right now,” Angel stood up sharply, “So why don’t we just cut the posturing and the aiming of _wooden bolts_ at my heart, and you solve the mystery that I can’t seem to get out of my head?”

“Connor,” Shift said in warning. Connor glowered, and took a few steps back as he slowly dropped his arm with the bolts.

“He could have tried to hurt you.”

“You just finished telling him all about my immortality. He can’t hurt me. We’re good.”

Connor reluctantly crossed his arms, and she rolled her eyes. Like father, like son.

“Answers,” Angel turned back to the demon. “Now.”

“Alright!” She exclaimed. “Alright, Jesus fucking Christ, man, I wasn’t lying when I said it was complicated. It’s either you don’t believe a word I’m gonna say on this, or your head explodes, and I’m not sure which one’s worse! What we’re dealing with here is a whole lotta bullshit from a bullshit causer, and it’s not exactly something I can just explain outright, y’know?”

“Try me.”

Shift bit down hard on her lip. “Alright, gimme a second, okay? Working up to this is harder than you think.” Stalling was just delaying the inevitable, and with Angel peering down at her like some dark arbiter of justice, she didn’t have anymore time to try his patience. He looked like he’d lost the last of that with the disappearance of his son.

“Shift,” Angel commanded.

“Angel,” she spouted back.

“Today, maybe?”

She took a deep breath, then sighed.

“What do you know about time travel?”

Immediately, his eyebrows furrowed, as memories of his past began to swirl in his mind. Bittersweet, a day that remained within him for years now was brought back to the forefront. Food. The taste of it in his mouth, where only blood had touched before. He’d loved chocolate ice cream, and he’d loved peanut butter. And there, in that moment, that beautiful day, he’d been able to love Buffy too. Right before the world ended, because it couldn’t afford to lose their champion. No one remembered that day but him, because to most that day had never happened. Much like so many other burdens, he’d shouldered it, and treasured from what he could.

That life he had so briefly lived, stripped of his vampiric curse, had been struck from the record of time thanks to the help of godlike beings who knew that the alternative was an eventual apocalypse. It was an event he was warned not to use again, and one he had never again touched. Sure, there had to be some kind of magic involved that might accomplish the same task, but that sort of thing was trackable. And Wolfram and Hart had tracked no such thing. 

“Some,” he finally murmured, still half-lost in thought. “But the Oracles wouldn’t make any sense…”

“No.” She breathed out a sigh of relief that there was _some_ kind of jumping off point. “I don’t even know what the fuck that is. But at least we got something to work with. I’m…” she paused uncertainly. “From a future. Not, like _the_ future, but _a_ future. Different to yours.”

“I’m following,” the vampire said. He’d crossed his arms again, much like his son. The both of them made quite a pair, and Shift was having a hard time trying not to grin.

“Ahem. Yeah. So - This future is in an entirely different universe. Not a different dimension, not a demon world, a different – different everything. The kind of place not even Willow would be able to reach. This includes different Gods capable of sending people places they think are worth sending. Like back in time, for example, or across dimensions.” She smiled hesitantly. “Whoosh, bam, here I am, entirely outa my fuckin’ element.”

“Say I believe that,” Angel said. “Then how did you know about me, Buffy, or Connor? Or Willow, now, for that matter.”

“Because there’s a me in that world,” Connor finished for her.

Angel went quiet as he turned back to his son. Connor was standing there solemn, and far more thoughtful than the vampire had expected. “An alternate world, where I’m happy.” the Destroyer said softly. “And we’re together. I was brought there the same way she was taken out.”

“Now that, I find hard to believe.”

The demon sighed. “Look, vamp, I respect you enough to tell the truth. I crossed literal dimensions to get here. Landed in the middle of that hellmouth back in Sunnydale, had to climb my way out into the school, get the fuck out of town, steal a fucking car, and drive around LA literally searching for the exact bridge I needed until I finally came upon what was going down. That’s literally all the time I had. I _wish_ I could have found you first so we could have strategized better. If I could have kept Connor out of Quor’toth and living his happy life here with you, never having his-” She glanced at Connor hesitantly. “His “father” tell him things that hurt his mind, then I would have. But I couldn’t. And now this is what we’re left with.”

Angel watched her silently. She was more than a full foot shorter than him. But those eyes. The way they held steady no matter what he said or did. He’d seen the like before in creatures that slumbered for eons, only to be waken up by cultists, forcing him to go put them down for good. As he stood there, trying to digest impossible information, he couldn’t help but look at something so ancient and wonder how she managed to convince his son that she was only five thousand years old.

“Do you get it now?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No, I don’t,” he finally snapped. “Assuming any of what you just said to me is true, which, by the way, conveniently can’t be proven, explain to me again _why_ this has anything to do with grooming my son in a hell dimension? Your story could be anything, but it doesn’t explain where we are now. And that just – you know – doesn’t _jive_ with me.”

“We don’t _care_ what you think,” Connor said.

“Listen, son,” the vampire shot back, “you were only a couple months old two weeks ago, so I think I have the better say on what should be going on right now under my own roof.”

Connor tried to raise his crossbow, and Angel batted it away immediately. “And enough of –“ In reflex, the Destroyer reeled back to punch the vampire in the face, but Angel was faster at pinning down his arm, and with a frustrated roar the kid reached for his sword while kicking out with all he had.

The cuffs holding Shift in place heated white hot then melted away as she rushed forward to grab the Destroyer. He lunged in reflex out at her with the sword, and the cut landed deep in her shoulder. She grit her teeth and held on, growling under her breath as she broke him apart from the vamp.

“Connor, Jesus, stop!” she hissed. “Please!”

“He’s dangerous!” He argued, still glaring daggers at the vampire behind them, but the rage had already faded when he’d realized what he’d done. The guilt was plastered on his face as he tucked his blade back away. “He was about to say something about keeping you away from me.”

She grimaced. “You really think he’s capable of keeping me away from you?”

Connor chewed aggressively on his lip, then relaxed ever so slightly in her arms.

“Fine,” he agreed.

The vampire stared at the deep gouge in the demon’s shoulder where small flames had begun to lick up and close the wound, then to the wooden floor of his office that was currently smoking from the remnants of the cuffs he’d used. His beautiful office, ruined.

“Could you always do that?” He balked.

“I was trying to be polite,” she growled back to him. “How are you supposed to trust me if I just fuck around breaking the arbitrary constraints you throw on me?”

Angel shifted as he waved a hand in exasperation. “Look. You’re an unknown, and you kidnapped my son. Connor. Can you blame me for taking every precaution I can?”

“Yes,” she hissed as she slowly turned around. “I can. But can _you_ blame us for being a little fucking on edge and maybe wanting a drink?”

“Then if you just answered all my questions, you’d make things a lot easier for yourselves.”

Shift’s eye twitched. “Easier for myself? EASIER for myself?” The demon strode forward and grabbed the vampire by the collar of his shirt. Her finger dug pointedly into his chest with every word as her sentences ended with snarls bordering on rabid. “You wanna know what I fuckin’ did for your kid? I protected him since birth. I dealt with the harassment of a psychopathic asshole that not only had your name on his shitlist, but me too. I dealt with Holtz’s brainwashing schemes that turned your kid so fucky that he thought you were ANGELUS, and nearly got screwed over by that hunter in the process. Do you know what it’s like to lie unable to die in watery grave, slowly losing your sense of self as the last of your energy fades away? NO! You’ll NEVER KNOW! BECAUSE I SAVED YOU FROM EVER HAVING TO EXPERIENCE THAT REALITY! The only reason you’re not dead right now, Angel, my dearest fucking undead bloodsucker, is because I made a deal with Connor over there. Your darling son’s number one goal in life is to turn you ashes.” She laughed hysterically as she began to shake the vampire by the collar. He grabbed at her arms. She was practically shivering. “ASHES, Angel! He wants to kill you! And I can’t do anything about that except delay it for a few days and hope your general sense of goodwill rubs off on him! Which, fucking GOOD LUCK at this point, for locking us away like this and utterly DEMANDING things.” She gestured back at the Destroyer, then fixed the vampire with a terrifyingly desperate expression. “So, EASY for my fucking self? Never. Never in a million years. I don’t get easy. Because for the first time in your life, _you_ do.”

“Look,” he began more gently, “I get you’ve had a hard time. I’m not trying to discount that. But Connor is my son. I’m sure he wouldn’t go that far – ”

“His father was Holtz,” she groaned. “We’ve been over this, vamp. Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull, okay? He ain’t gonna listen to shit you say!”

“He has to know the truth by now,” Angel tried to argue. “If you know this whole future thing, then he does do, doesn’t he?”

“He only knows what Holtz and I have told him, and he’s more inclined toward over-arching caregiver in his formative. Me? I get the whole I’m-not-understanding-the-whole-truth-about-Angel shtick.” With a sharp intake of breath, she stepped away from the vamp, and pointed to the Destroyer behind her. “Go ahead. Talk to him. He’s got about three words to say to you, and two of them are “Go” and “Yourself”. I’ll let you fill in the rest.”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” Connor glowered. “He’d be better off dead or suffering for what he’s done.”

“He’s ANGEL.” She turned on her heel and gestured wildly to the vampire instead. “Self sacrificing asshole that believes that he’ll never be free of this curse he’s got. All he _does_ is suffer.”

“Connor.” Angel pushed passed her, and the demon let out a deep, long suffering sigh. “I…” He swallowed. The boy’s eyes were chilling, focused on the vampire’s hands as much as they were on his face. His face looked so much like his mother’s. He even had her eyes. And his shoulders were broad, just like Angel’s.

A linebacker, maybe, or a quarterback. He could see it. Bringing home championships, years from now. Not… Not this.

“I don’t know what Holtz told you back in the Quor’toth. But I don’t want to hurt you. Son, I,” he laughed hesitantly. “I just want to know about your life. If what she says is true, then can we just talk? The two of us? I’ve missed so much, your whole life, I mean,” he scratched the back of his head. “I have no idea what you’ve gone through. But I want to know, if you’ll let me.”

For a moment, the tiniest fragment of a moment, the Destroyer hesitated. The vampire could see it. That reluctance. That hope. That possibility.

But then his jaw tightened.

“No,” Connor said. “I don’t want you.” 

Angel’s heart panged. “I know what Holtz must have said to you, but I want you to make your own decisions – you don’t need to listen to me, just watch –”

“You trapped us here,” Connor spat. “You won’t let us leave this stupid hotel. And now you’re threatening Shift. She came to save me, not you. You…” He turned away. “You left me for him.” His son’s shoulders began to shake, and Shift gripped the side of the Angel’s desk tight.

“You left me,” he repeated, his voice barely hiding the hiccup. “So I don’t care about you.” He turned his jaw back up to meet the vampire’s broken-hearted expression. “You’re a monster, with a second face, and no heartbeat. At least her heart beats. At least she bothered to cross worlds for me.” He smiled faintly. “She loves me. And I love her. We were going to do so many things before you destroyed _everything_ and trapped us in here.” The boy began to stalk the room, his eyes still on Angel. “I was going to come for you next, after we went to the club, and drank. After we went to the condom store. I was going to kill you when the time had passed. But I should have known you would have just made things more difficult. That’s all you do, is make things difficult.”

Angel’s eyes widened. “Woah let’s back up a minute here. Condom store? Did I hear that right?”

Shift slammed her fist onto the desk. “Not helping!” 

“A condom store,” Connor repeated, his eyes alight with defiance. “That way we can have sex without having children.”

Shift had never seen Angel turn red before. Granted it was between slams of her head into the desk.

“Well now you’re going _nowhere,”_ Angel snarled.

“You can’t keep us here!” Connor snarled right back. “We’ll leave if we want!”

“You don’t even know anything about the outside world! What if you come across something that –”

“I’ll kill it!”

“You can’t kill _everything_ you come across!” Angel’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re not bringing her with you. We don’t even know what she’s capable of. You think I’d just let her go after all that you’ve told me? You’re a child, Connor! She’s been grooming you!”

“I cut my own hair!”

“I swear to fucking God just stab me now,” Shift muttered.

Angel turned on her with his eyes alit in fury. “Do you understand what you’ve done to him?!” His eyes lit up with fury at her. “You don’t take my son! You don’t get to do that!”

Connor shot the bolt through his shoulder.

“That was a warning,” the kid said coldly. “You don’t get to talk to her like that. For the last time.”

Angel hissed, gripping the stake, and tore it out with a pained growl. He heaved thick breaths as he looked at it, then threw it to the floor alongside the metal still cooling from her outburst. “Both of you,” he huffed. “Stay here. Don’t move, or I’ll make sure both of you are locked up on other sides of city. You.” He glared at Connor. “Are in time-out. And you.”

He turned on Shift, and couldn’t even speak for the rage that closed up his throat. He swallowed, then rubbed his mouth as he let out another shuddering breath. “This isn’t over. I need – I need some space. To think this over. Everything.”

She sighed. “Fine,” she muttered.

Angel slammed the door to his office closed, took a deep breath, then stormed off to the rest of Angel Investigations. Shift grit her teeth, and Connor’s glower followed the man until he was mostly out of sight.

“I hate him,” he said.

“I don’t blame you.”


	4. Lawful

While Connor and Shift stood there in the office that smelled like death and conflict, Angel stormed off to lick his wounds and spout what he presumed neither of them could hear.

As soon as he met with the rest of the group in the lobby, he was spitting fire. At this point, Shift didn’t really care to listen to an old man’s temper tantrum. Connor listened, though. And he watched, carefully. The woman with short hair who smelled nice was the first to console Angel with a pat on the back. He didn’t understand exactly what she meant, but it seemed he appreciated it. The warrior who had spoken so strangely did not seem to, though, not when the woman seemed so… Intimate, with Angel. And then that green demon spoke up, and Connor flicked his gaze over to that creature’s explanation of how maybe it wasn’t so bad, and look on the bright side, his son was back! And Holtz was dead! That was something to celebrate, right?

Connor’s teeth clenched.

But Angel himself was on a mission. She could break out of those cuffs, he’d said, so they’d need something else to keep her there, and then set forth another futile demand to Fred and Gunn to get some research done on what she was so they could find a more permanent solution to holding her.

As he’d said it, his eyes flared, his voice raised, and Cordelia spoke up again, this time claiming that he might be blowing things just a little out of the water. Couldn’t he at least admit that something good had happened for once in his life? His son was alive, and from what it looks like, his enemy was dead and gone without him ever having to deal with him. Shouldn’t they be thanking that girl? It’s not every day that someone comes here looking to make friends, right?

But good things don’t happen to Angel. Only worse things disguised as better things. His son was finally in his grasp, and yet still so far away. Connor was brainwashed, certainly, but they didn’t know how far, and by who. For all they knew, she could have been just as bad. Her words were a good place to start from, but there was no way the vampire was going to take what that demon had told him at face value. There was no telling the extent of the damages. And until he was aware of them, no one stopped working on this case. Not until his son was safe.

The agreement was lackluster, but at least it was agreement.

Shift slumped, then turned and sat up onto Angel’s desk. The demon picked up the little name placard he’d left on it that he seemed to think made himself so much more professional, and let her mouth twitch up in a small, wry smile.

“Meet one self sacrificing emo dude and you meet them all,” she muttered.

“What does that mean?” Connor found himself beside her leaning against her shoulder as he read the name with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “A lot of people in the multiverse try to stand up for what’s right like he does. And yet, they manage to all be the same level of overwhelming obnoxiousness.” She set down the name placard, then lolled her head against his.

“So, what do you think?”

“I hate it here,” he spat. He pulled away to analyze his knife, his eyes hooded. “I want us to leave as soon as we can.”

“Well, we haven’t even been able to leave yet, so I get how you feel. I swear it’s more than the four walls of a hotel. There’s a world out there, joker. Just give it time.”

The Destroyer shifted uncomfortably, then stashed his blade back away. “It’s that vampire’s fault,” he said. “We could kill him now, and then we could go do whatever we want. He’s the one in the way.”

“I really appreciate you not killing him,” she patted his hand. “But this is unfortunately how it’s gonna be for a while, until he can finally get it through his thick skull that I’m not the bad guy.” She smirked slightly at him. “Sound familiar?”

Connor glowered. “No.”

“I know you’re not stupid, joker.”

He avoided her eyes and instead focused on the arm crossbow that seemed far more interesting. “There has to be a way to escape,” he muttered. “I bet we could, if we tried. This place seems easy, there’s so many exits.”

“Dude, believe me, I want to. And we probably could. But did you not see what happened during that talk?”

“I saw him threatening you,” he said.

“What you saw was my attempt to gain trust with someone as untrusting as a frightened animal. If I just walked out of here, do you really think that he would ever believe anything I say?” She reached out and gently gripped him by the jaw with both hands. “Joker, I love you. But the rest of the world will think we’re monsters unless we’re careful to build up a reason for them to trust us.”

“I don’t want to make friends with people who won’t even believe us,” he tried to say through squished cheeks. “It’ll take too long. And I don’t want to make friends with a vampire or his allies. I want him dead.”

“Granted,” She kissed his forehead before she finally let him go. “But you heard the others, right? If we play our cards right, they’re not going to stick with this for long when they see me trying to cooperate. They’ll give the two of us a lil bit of leash, and we’ll abuse the shit out of that leash and get ourselves a good night on the town. Think, joker.” She leaned in closer. The proximity to the demon and the scent she carried made his heart beat faster. As did that wild look in her eye. His own mouth parted as he locked his gaze with hers. “Los Angeles. Imagine it. The neon lights. The drinks. The dancing, moving your body like sex and fighting all in one. Feeling the beat of that music driving itself like a wedge into your soul.”

“I want to go,” he breathed.

She leaned down to kiss his jaw. “We will. Soon. We’ll get you some real clothes, and maybe after a dance we can go kick the shit out of some vamps. It’ll be good practice. You’re not used to people and you won’t get overwhelmed. I’ll be there to help.”

He nodded along, then frowned when he truly processed the information. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“You’re wearing _hides_ my dude.” She scratched her ragged hair. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the kind of cash that I can just go out and nab something for you, ‘else I might suggest we just go on a shopping spree. We could steal, but Angel over there might have something to say about that.”

“I don’t care what he says,” Connor snorted. “Let’s just go take what we want.”

“We’re trying to get Angel to _trust_ us here. I’d like to make that abundantly clear. If we fuck up, I don’t want him annoying the shit out of us by following us around.” 

The boy turned back to the lobby, where the vampire was in deep conversation with Cordelia, then huffed. “He doesn’t look that strong. He’s no titan.”

“Quor’toth heightens abilities, especially yours. I could feel it as soon as we left the dimension.” Connor looked down at his own hand and curled it into a fist. He didn’t _feel_ any less strong than before. “Plus, you haven’t tried fighting him yet,” she continued.

“Yet.”

“Joker,” she warned.

“I won’t,” he said impatiently. “I promised, remember? I’ll be good, like you said.” With a sigh, his eyes wandered back to the lobby, and she followed his gaze. When it landed on Cordelia, her chest tightened.

“Who is she?” He asked.

Shift could taste the metallic blood in her mouth from her pointed teeth digging too hard into her lip. He turned to her, confused and almost scared, and she was silent.

If she told him, then she told the whole universe what she knew, including whatever might be listening at this very moment in time. A certain godly thing would be clinging to everything she said with her metaphorical ear pressed up against the door, she knew. It was a given at this point, if her appearance was already known by the senior partners of Wolfram and Hart. Shift’s mind was safe. But Connor’s wasn’t.

It would be her own ability to keep his interest, versus a woman that was meant to be his through prophecy. All of creation was structured to shove them together. And she was just a dumb fuckin’ fire demon with a set of shark teeth.

Now, it was really starting to settle in.

“Shift?”

“That’s Cordelia,” she finally said. “Cordelia Chase. Old friend of Angel’s.”

He watched her like he watched prey. Every mannerism, catalogued in his mind. At first, he opened his mouth, but then he closed it again, and clenched his hand into a fist.

“… They… Seem close,” he muttered. “How can she like something so demonic?”

Shift forced out a harsh laugh. “Look in the mirror, Connor.”

He chewed on his lip, then turned back to the lobby instead. Blond hair, caring eyes, and a strange amount of affection for a monster. He didn’t expect girls to all look so different, but her and Shift were like opposite ends of the spectrum.

Connor wasn’t stupid. As he watched Cordelia, cold apprehension steeled his heart. Whatever thoughts he’d had of her had turned to stone. He couldn’t just hold in those questions.

“You don’t have to hide it,” he muttered. “What is she?”

Shift’s heart stopped.

“What do you mean?”

“For you to be acting that way, she can’t be human. She’s a demon, isn’t she?” His jaw tightened. “If she’s evil, I’ll destroy her too. Whatever it takes.”

The fire demon swallowed hard.

“You shouldn’t do that, Connor. She’s innocent.”

“But, your reaction –”

“I’m just not used to seeing her. She’s got a scent that messes with my nose.” Idly, she kicked her legs back and forth, and tried to ignore the pounding in her heart. She couldn’t hide its swift beating from the kid with the bat ears, but she could lie through her teeth. And she did it, as painful as it was. “You’re right, she’s a demon. But she was born human. Being able to tell prophecies like she does means she needs a drop of demon in her to keep going.”

“Prophecies,” he repeated incredulously. 

“Yeah. She’s got a direct link to the Powers That Be. They give hints on how to save lives.” She grinned at him. “Not exactly an Ender of Worlds, huh? More like a perfect companion to the bleeding heart champion over there. I don’t even know that much about her, along with the rest of his posse.”

“But…”

  
“Joker.” Shift smiled placidly at the kid. “No worries. You never even really talked about her. I’m not scared of her. I was just thinking about how the hell we’re going to get out of this hotel, with Angel acting like he is. It’s a pain in the balls, and I guess you caught onto it. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He could see it. The change in her breathing patterns, the strain from beneath that smile. It sounded so sweet when she said it. Just like it had when his father had too. It was just so easy to agree with someone that claimed they wanted the best for him.

But… She did want only the best for him. He shouldn’t be paying attention to any of the alarms going off in his head. There had to be something wrong with that woman, something dark and deep enough that not even Shift would be able to deal with it. Something that they couldn’t fight together.

She was lying. But if she only cared about him, then she was doing it for… Him. Right?

He could trust when she lied, right?

“We’ll get out of here,” he said adamantly, quick to pick up the chance to change topics. “No worries.”

“Exactly,” she said. Her fingernails dug into the wood until the nail beds had begun to bleed.

He was so quick to agree with her. She knew he didn’t even believe her. He didn’t have a poker face, same as her. He just trusted her enough to know best. He was putting his faith in her. He loved her. She was no better than Cordelia.

No better than Jasmine.

“I just need to make sure I get into that idiot’s good graces, and let him convince you that he isn’t the mother of all evil beasts, now.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair.

“I said what I said,” he glowered. “I wasn’t wrong. He did abandon me. He… He never tried to get through after. All that time, and I never saw him.”

“Quor’toth is a hell dimension built to be impenetrable. He tried, Connor. Believe me. You can ask him, if you want. He desperately wanted to make it back to you.”

“But…” Connor’s teeth dug into his lip as he tried to think of a good argument, with little success.

This wasn’t fair to him.

Everything she’d ever done was a manipulation to build Connor to the version she thought was best. He didn’t have a voice in it. She just barreled through his life and destroyed what she deemed unnecessary. What right did she have? Was means to an end a good argument when someone she loved hung in the balance? Did she have any right to make him love her in the first place?

The questions flooded her mind and her head began to pound.

She closed her eyes.

“Connor,” she uttered.

“What?”

“I don’t want to manipulate you.”

“You’re not manipulating me.”

“But I am, though.”

“You’re not.”

She sighed deeply. “The one that holds the cards is guiding you and telling you do things. I inserted myself into your life. If that isn’t manipulation, I don’t know what is.”

“Well… I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t trust anyone. That’s what makes your life worse.”

“But you don’t want to do anything but protect me. I can trust that, right?”

She hugged her arms against her. “I used to think… Yes. But now I’m not so sure. This feels dirty. The last thing you need is to be a pawn in somebody’s game. Even if my goal is your happiness, what gives me the right to tell you to go in a certain direction to achieve it?”

“I trust you, Shift,” he repeated. As she opened her eyes fully, Connor was right up against her again, his earnest eyes peering up at hers. She flushed at his closeness, and he closed the gap by kissing her. When he pulled away, she pressed her forehead against his. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the agonizing glare of a certain vampire watching them.

She kissed him again.

“Okay,” she murmured against his lips. “I trust you too, Connor.”

“Us against the world,” he said.

“Us against the world.”

“And when all this is over, it will be just us,” he maintained, his voice a soft lullaby-like lilt. “We’ll be able to do whatever we want. And live the lives we want.”

Fuck.

She looked away from him.

When all this was over, and the apocalypse was averted, she would be rendered obsolete. And then there would only be two options left for her. Either she could stay with this Connor, or try to find a way back to her own Connor. The one that she was doing this all for.

There was someone waiting for her when this was all over. And it wasn’t the man in front of her.

The door to the office swung open, and the both of them jumped. Angel’s expression had worsened from angry to murderous since she’d last seen him, and despite Cordelia hanging behind him, her own shiny personality wasn’t doing much to calm him down. Shift jumped down from the desk and sunk her hands firmly into her pockets as she regarded the both of them with guarded expressions. Behind her, Connor gripped one hand on his blade, and this time it wasn’t just for the vampire.

The tension was palpable. 

“We need to have a talk,” the vampire said. “And lay some ground rules.”

…

The destroyer couldn’t seem to find a good position to sit in on the lobby couch and had ended up perched on the back of the piece of furniture with his dagger in his hand, picking away at the ear of one of his most recent trophies. Shift’s arms were crossed, facing the two angry parents looking down at their unruly child. She was so, so close to rolling her eyes. Cordelia’s foot was tapping. She couldn’t tell if it was for Angel or her.

“Connor,” Angel said.

The destroyer glared at him. “What.”

“I’m not doing this to upset you, son. I’m trying to help here. If we could just talk one on one -”

“No,” the kid said immediately.

Shift sighed, and Angel turned on her with fury in his eyes. “While you’re here, you need to follow our rules. I’m not going to let either of you walk out that door unless you can promise me, face to face, that you’re not going to get into any trouble.”

“I’m not going to get into any trouble,” she said.

“Nice try. But that doesn’t count.”

Shift threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Until we know for certain how you got here and why you know what you know, you’re going to stay in this hotel,” he maintained.

“I’m not going anywhere if she can’t come,” Connor said sharply.

“Connor,” Angel began with little patience, “this is a lot more serious than you think.”

“And you’re blowing it out of proportion.” Shift said. “I’m sorry for ruffling your feathers, but this is _not_ the problem you think it is.”

“No – what – Cordelia back me up here.”

Out of sorts, Cordelia gestured vaguely to the two of them “Angel, I told you before, I – I don’t honestly know if we should be restricting them here.”

Shift raised an eyebrow.

“Did you miss the part where I said she’s an ancient demon stealing my son away?” He retorted.

“Well I’m sorry! But maybe we wait to talk about this at least until Fred and Gunn get back with the details?”

“And leave them unattended? Did you not hear the part about CONDOM store?”

Shift tried very hard not to laugh and only half-succeeded.

“I never said anything about unattended, Angel,” Cordelia said, louder than before.

“Fine.” Angel, defeated, whirled back around on the two of them, his arms crossed and his chest puffed out as much as he could manage. “Rule number one. You don’t leave this hotel until I know that the two of you can behave. Especially you.” He glared at Shift. She rolled her eyes. “Rule number two. The minute that you show any hint of being some world-ending monster straight from the pits of hell, you’re officially off the nice list.”

“Understood,” the demon said. “Anything else?”

Angel’s face was in danger of warping into a rage. “Rule number three. No doing _anything_ with my son under this roof. Anything.”

“Angel!” Cordelia said sharply.

“You can’t make me!” Connor roared.

“I can as long as you are under my roof!” Angel roared back.

The yelling match that ensued was briefly punctuated with Cordelia’s attempts at bringing order, but to be honest, it was a lost cause.

Shift buckled down on her seat with crossed arms and a deep exhaustion settling on her shoulders. First Cordelia defending her, and now this. She had a bad taste in her mouth. This wasn’t going to get solved soon, and she was too tired to think of a way to get around it. “I’m too hungry for this shit,” she muttered.

“You’re hungry?” Connor asked.

The Destroyer dropped down to perch beside her while Angel continued to stand there, open-mouthed and ready to spite more fire. “Here.” Connor peeled back the collar of his shirt and waited expectantly. “Drink.”

A dangerous silence filled the room.

“What are you waiting for?” Connor insisted.

“Connor,” she said, slowly turning to him with a mouth smiling wide to hide the screams. “ _Why_ are you the way that you are?” 

…

So it turns out they had a prison cell in the basement. Who knew? She certainly fucking didn’t. She was quickly becoming aware of a lot of things she didn’t know. Like, Angel, in general, as a rule. And the reality that she soon realized she was going to be stuck in if she didn’t get really chummy with him real fast. A two-hundred-year-old cry baby was almost worse than a snake masquerading as a father figure.

Shift hadn’t exactly thought of the implications of cutting off Connor’s support from Holtz, only to throw him straight into the deep end of unresolved trauma, just like a lot of things she should have thought a little more about first but then didn’t. It had taken a whole lot of yelling and a whole lot of her telling him to listen to leave her between these heavily reinforced steel beams.

She could only hope that maybe him and his stupid father were having a heart to heart with her no longer there to complicate things. This was all a part of Jasmine’s plan anyways, wasn’t it? She needed him to get close to Cordelia. She should have the universe on her side for this one.

Well, she could dream.

She paced the cell obsessively with what little room it offered her and squeezed her brain for all the mental juice it could throw at this stupid game of chess. Connor wasn’t going to go after Cordelia anymore, there was no Holtz to push him to torture and disappear Angel, and the two of them would never have the falling out that would lead to Cordelia stealing him away. All smooth sailing, right? But then, there was still Jasmine. And she wasn’t something Shift could punch.

Plus that whole blood debacle hadn’t gone over well either and she was still grasping at straws to try and get Angel to tolerate her. This world was filled with vampires incapable of self-control.

And how was she supposed to know that feeding on Connor blood was a sore subject? How was she supposed to know that’s the whole reason Wesley stole Connor away in the first place? So maybe Angel couldn’t control his bloodthirst and thought Connor smelled like food because s _omeone_ had been dosing his morning animal blood coffee with his own kid’s. But Connor ALWAYS smelled like food to her, feeding or no feeding. You can’t simply separate the delicious smell of his blood from the smell of sex and comfort. To her, those things didn’t need to be exclusive.

But Angel was never going to shut up about morals. Ah yes. It is totally normal to starve yourself. Thank you Angel, she’ll be converting to your religion in moments, as soon as she’s baptised in the tears of your self sacrifice.

Explaining to him that she couldn’t feed on animals if she tried didn’t go over well. But then, her very existence flew in the face of a lot of their demon biology and even more so in their lore. There was no room for her. Angel was gunning for Fred and Gunn’s research, but she knew that was going turn up nothing. Oh, god forbid he only had his son’s opinion and her actions to go on. God forbid he remember that night and see that she was the only one willing to go to Quor’toth for his son. Nah, she was the villain. Put her right up there with Holtz and Wesley. Big bad of the week, there for him to defeat with a well-placed sword slice through the neck.

She stopped short, snarled to herself, and gripped one of the bars in a grasp that could have easily melted them. Angel wasn’t stupid enough to think that this would hold her, but that wasn’t the point. And she knew that. This was a dumbass fucking trust exercise that she knew she wouldn’t win no matter how long she spent here.

How many days until the apocalypse? How many days was she stuck here until Cordy got vacuumed up by the pseudo PTB and then spat back out with a Jasmine sized parasite strapped to her noggin? Before it had all been based on Angel and Connor’s battle. Now? Who fuckin new. She didn’t. This was fucked. She’d only ever been the punch guy. This? This was torture.

“You don’t belong in cage.”

She looked up and gawked at the Connor she remembered from so long ago standing before her. After changing out of his hides, there was little difference between his clothing choices today and so many years in the future. The same green shirt, the same jeans, the same way he crossed his arms like he had all the confidence in the world. It took several seconds of blinking just to realize what she was looking at, and even then, her heart panged.

“If I’m gonna be gaining trust, then this is gonna have to be my home, I guess,” she finally said. She stretched out her arms, and took the few steps back that she could. “Welcome to my paradise for the next, I dunno, week?”

“It’s not fair,” he muttered as he skulked over to her. “Angel tried to get me to talk for hours, but they don’t even give you a chance. I wouldn’t talk. Not without you.”

“You need to get over this kind of mother goose baby gosling thing we got going on if we’re ever going to get anywhere, joker.” She dropped forward and rested against the bars. “How did things go with him? Beyond your hatred bias. Tell me the deets.”

“He said that he wanted to get to know me better,” he offered reluctantly. “That he wanted to see the kind of man that I had become. He kept wanting to touch me.” He grit his teeth. “He didn’t, but he wanted to. He said I must have had a billion questions. I didn’t.”

“I told you to be civil.”

“I tried! But he doesn’t understand. And he didn’t care about you, either, he just got angry. And he didn’t listen. He didn’t even try to listen.” His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned up against the other side of the cage. “But he apologized so many times. Not for you, but for the past. It didn’t make any sense. I hate his stupid games.”

“Are you sure it’s a game?”

“What else would it be?” Connor retorted.

“I dunno, maybe guilt for not being fast enough, like I talked about before?”

“If he really cared, then he’d let you out of here.” Connor looked at the bars appraisingly. Perhaps he couldn’t be able to bend them himself with his own hands, but he could certainly try. “He’s trying to control us. I don’t see the point of getting him to trust us when I’m just going to kill him in three days.”

“The point is,” she muttered, “that he isn’t the bad guy here, joker.” She stared imploringly up at him from behind the bars. “What did you get out of your conversation with him, really? Didn’t you see _something_ there? There had to be something, right?”

“No,” Connor said, but there was enough hesitation that Shift could let a little bit of that tension in her shoulder escape.

“You sound like a kid trying to tell me you didn’t totally eat the last cookie from a cookie jar,” she teased.

“I don’t know what that means, but you’re wrong.” Idly, he scratched at the metal that separated the two of them. “He’s still Angelus inside, even if he has a soul,” he murmured. “My father might be gone, but his memory is alive with me. I won’t let him go on without being avenged.”

“Connor… Why not kill me, if you’re so obsessed with revenge?”

“You can’t die,” he retorted, then softened. “And I… Already left you to rot long enough.”

“But I’m still the one that killed him. And yet you came back for me.”

“That’s different. You cared.”

“And he _doesn’t_ _?_ ”

“I…” Connor wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

She banged her head against the metal and sighed. “Of course you don’t. Fine. We’ll leave it, again. As we always fuckin’ do, to just percolate and go nowhere. And then stand here, like a pair of star-crossed lovers unable to ever touch each other because your Montague daddy over there can’t stand those red Capulets.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh…” He drew quiet, and she stroked the bars gently, as if she were petting a cat. Briefly, she considered the ramifications of the stray thought wriggling through her mind. She’d been doing that a whole lot more than usual these days. But after a moment, she looked at Connor. Sad. Lonely. And here she was, cold as ever.

She could do as Angel asked, but that didn’t mean they had to e _ntirely_ go with it.

“Hey,” she murmured. “You wanna come in?”

He blinked. “I thought you said these bars could hold in Angelus.”

“Oh, they can hold in a whole lot more than Angelus. But reinforced steel alloy with a melting point only meant to occur in blast furnaces? Ain’t got nothing on a sun.” She grinned, and his throat bobbed in a swallow. The way her teeth glinted made it impossible to look away from her.

She nodded her head back at him. “Stand back, joker.”

He flitted several feet away and watched her grip the metal tightly. Beneath that grip, the metal began to spit, then glow, until it was a vibrant scarlet that Connor almost wanted to touch. Slowly, carefully, with as much tact as possible, she slowly pulled them apart. A few drops got on the floor – this wasn’t exactly a laser focus situation she had – and sizzled into the stone of the basement.

When she was done, she had bent the bars to render a space just large enough for one. The metal still buzzed as it slowly cooled in the air. Water pockets sizzled and popped. She probably fucked over the crystal structure, but there was no way that was going to come back to bite her in the ass, right?

“You can escape!” Connor gleefully exclaimed. He rushed forward as soon as she was done, but didn’t dare touch the metal that was still smoking.

The demon smiled and shook her head “Hey now, joker. Didn’t you get the point of all this? Trust. That’s our number one priority right now.”

“But…”

“But I don’t want you to feel alone, either.” She reached through the hole, and stroked his cheek with hands still warm to the touch. “If you want to come hang out with me, you can, so you don’t feel so alone. But I’m not leaving. Not until they believe us. Me, especially.”

They needed to believe her. They had to, or they would never believe in Jasmine. She had to make the chips. As many as she could. Then, when she eventually cashed them in, she’d have just enough.

How many she actually needed, well, that was the million-dollar question.

Connor gripped her hand with his own. The arguments were there on the tip of his tongue. But they died there as he stared into her eyes. There was no use debating something she had already decided. And for better of for worse, he was stuck here as long as she refused to go. He couldn’t understand how she could destroy everything around her, but chose to act like a caged animal. All he could do was quietly nod his head, and pad in to then sit down beside her.

They settled there, with her face pressed into the crook of his shoulder, and his arms lying gently around her waist. Calm, in the dark and foreboding basement. The faint drip of water not far off was the only sound he could hear, save for the faint rumbling purr rising up from the demon. After hours of questioning, it was the most soothing noise he’d ever heard. He closed his eyes and let it take him somewhere far, far away.

“I wish we’d never left,” he mumbled.

“I know, joker. I know.”

“We could have been hunting.” He sighed. “We could have been doing so many other things.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But… Sometimes, the universe is like that. Fate is unavoidable. And the only thing we can do is roll with the punches.”

“I don’t want to roll with the punches. I want to punch back.”

“Believe me. I do too. God, I fucking wish I could.”


	5. Caged

“What about this one?” Fred held up a picture in a book for Gunn.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I saw any four pronged tail on that demon girl. Plus – is that two sets of eyes? Really?”

“Sorry, babe, but I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here…” She went back into her nook of books that surrounded the two of them with her glasses more askew than usual. The sudden impact of Connor’s arrival had left everyone feeling a little rattled. And when you added that with the worm that had been controlling her every move less than a day ago, things were not looking that hot for dear old Fred.

Gunn sighed as he looked over yet another image of a creature that looked more like a squid than a person, then closed the book. “Fred, I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t think she’s in here.”

“Well, try the next one, there has to be something. If we don’t find anything, Angel will be-”

“Look, don’t you think maybe Angel’s taking this out of proportion? I get it, his son’s back, he’s going to be overprotective. But he’s a fully grown adult throwing a temper tantrum.”

“And that girl that’s currently with him is a fully grown demon, Charles,” She finished for him. “Angel’s worried she could be manipulating him. And he’s only eighteen. Or two weeks old… Jeez, I forget how much dimensions mess with your head.”

“Okay, but do you really believe she’s pure evil or something?” He asked. “You know I’m the last person to trust a demon that just jumped out of a hell world, but let’s look at the facts here. She shows up, Connor intact, and Holtz dead as far as we know. The kid was practically rabid, but she’s been the one telling him not to go after Angel like he’s some kind of attack dog. All of that reads not the bad guy to me.”

“Well,” she said sheepishly as she closed her book. “I don’t know about her, but I do think that Angel might be, well, a little, you know…”

“Crazy?”

“Scared, Gunn. Of a lot of things. Connor is back, but he missed everything about him. And trying to get through to him seems like it’s going to be impossible. Or at least improbable.”

Gunn frowned. “Yeah, the kid’s great, only keeping his hands to himself for a promise he keeps reminding the dude ends in a couple days.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it.”

Across the hall, the sound of the rift closing made the hair on their arms stand up. “Looks like Lorne’s friend of a friend finally pulled through,” Gunn said. “Only took him long enough.”

“Thank goodness,” she sighed in relief. “I was afraid another one of those big slimy monsters were going to get through. I’ve had about enough excitement for one day.”

“One less thing to worry about,” Gunn agreed. “And a thousand others left to deal with. Like, figuring out why the hell this girl isn’t in any of these books. There’s demons here with names I’ve never even heard of.” He opened one of the books and turned it sideways. “Like Helwelshey- you know I’m not even going to try to pronounce this, it looks like something you’d find in a dark ritual and I think I’ve had about enough of those.”

“Didn’t Angel say that not even Wolfram and Hart knew anything about her?”

Gunn sighed. “So what makes him think we can find her with our own sources?” He finished. “Yeah. Feels like we’re running around in circles right now while he barks orders.”

Fred bit her lip, then looked away and stared instead at one of the pictures in her book. “You know who would know what to do right now?”

“Fred,” Gunn said gently, “he made it pretty clear that’s not a door we’re allowed to open again. I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place, but we had no other option. And it’s done, now. Over.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I just…”

“Then you need to drop it. Because Wes dropped us. And the last thing he’d want to do right now is help the man that tried to kill him.”

Fred buried her face in another book, and Gunn leaned back in the uncomfortable armchair. Going through these books wasn’t going to help anybody, but at least it gave him time to think. And time to be away from Angel. The way that guy was acting around them was starting to get to him. There were too many questions left up in the air, and Gunn didn’t like it either, but that didn’t mean they were going to get anywhere by throwing themselves into the fire.

Gunn just hoped the vampire would see sense eventually.

…

Angel was, in fact, not seeing sense. Instead, he was pacing in his room upstairs with his mind going a mile a minute. Cordelia sat on the bed as attentive and understanding as ever, but there was no defusing this bomb without some cold hard facts.

“Angel, you’re forgetting how the poor kid was raised.”

“You don’t need to remind me. He does enough of that on his own.” Angel rubbed his face and finally stopped. Cordelia breathed out a sigh of relief; she was getting dizzy from watching. “I get it. I wasn’t there for him, and I should have been.” His voice softened. “I waited every day for him to come back, Cordelia. I knew he would come back. I just… I never thought it would go this way.”

“But this is the way you gotta deal with, big guy. Your son is alive, and he’s healthy, and strong, and he’s got himself someone he cares about. Of course, we may not know anything _about_ little miss Lacking Hair Conditioner, but that’s what research is for.”

“Cordelia,” he said coldly, “do you honestly believe what she said? For all we know she could be one of Holtz’s pawns. He could be alive, slinking behind the scenes, and we would never know.”

“You really think that guy could survive Quor’toth?”

“I don’t put anything past Holtz.” Angel shook his head. “His hate is strong enough to keep him going.”

“Listen,” Cordelia said as she leaned in closer. “We’ll keep an eye out. But the only thing I find fishy is my vision. I was so certain there was going to be a fight, I could see it in my mind as clear as day.” She rubbed her head. “Or maybe I lost the hang of visions as soon as I got them,” she mused.

“Are you taking her side?”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side here, Angel. All I’m looking at is the evidence here. If she did kill Holtz, and she told Connor to not attack you on entry, then that’s a lot of pros and not a lot of cons.”

The vampire scowled at the conclusion. It wasn't one he agreed with. “Did you forget the condom store?”

“I mean, we’re talking Peter Pan here, bub. Did you see the way that he was aiming that crossbow at anything that moved? Your son is afraid, and confused, and probably brainwashed. Whatever he says, we probably shouldn’t take at face value.”

“I’m not sure he could make it anymore plain if he tried.”

She sighed. “Look Angel, I'm going to level with you here. If you want him to love you, you have to give him a little time to adjust. Respect the choices he’s made, at least for now. He hasn’t exactly had the warmest welcome.”

“Even if the choices are awful?”

“Take it from a girl who’s made some pretty bad ones in the past. Kids mess up. It’s a part of life. And did you look at him? The last time I saw someone make goo-goo eyes at someone else like that was…” She swallowed. “Well. Maybe there is something wrong. But if there is, it’ll show itself. We’ll all keep an eye on her, Angel. I promise. Now, I should probably go check up on Groo. It’s been a day and I still don’t know where he’s gone off to.” The woman stood up, dusted her white blouse off, then patted Angel on the shoulder. “I get that you want to keep him safe, now that he’s back with you. But throwing her in a dungeon isn’t a good look.”

“If she wants me to trust her, then she stays,” he muttered. “It’s not like that kind of cage could hold her in anyways.”

“If he’s even slightly as stubborn and bullheaded as you are, then you’re only putting off the inevitable.” She smiled at him, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Watch me,” he muttered. “Go find your boy toy.”

He ignored her wince as she retreated with her tail between her legs. A part of him knew he was lashing out for all the wrong reasons, but that part of him was abnormally quiet compared to the silent rage dwelling within him. It wasn’t often that Angel’s mind tore away from logic and the simplicity of cause and effect, yet these days that seemed to be the only way it worked. As he returned back to pacing, he tried to put his head in order.

He thought he’d really gotten through to Connor when they had finally sat down and talked together for the first time without any interference. Sure, the kid had started with suspicion, but that was to be expected. Yes, Connor had forced him to show his true face, and that had hurt, especially the look of revulsion as he got a good look at the vampire that Angel was. But Connor must have seen something, anything, other than the vampire, because he kept talking to him. He didn’t run. He flinched, but that was it. There was something else in his eyes. Hope, Angel wanted to believe.

And for someone that didn’t want to talk, he did a lot of it when Angel said the right things. Catching up on the past was a brief flash of happiness for the vampire.

But then he had to go and ruin it. Because all of those memories were tinged with that demon. Shift this, Shift that. This creature had invaded his son’s life like some kind of parasite. First an enemy, then an outsider, then a curiosity, and then… Angel couldn’t even think it. Everyone could be against the vampire they liked, but he’d never lose sight of what Shift had done to his son. Not knowing what she was capable of was just the icing on the cake.

Fred and Gunn couldn’t find anything. He didn’t expect them to. What they had on their hands, not even Wolfram and Hart knew about. No one knew, they were flying blind. But that didn’t mean they were flying defenseless. And there were ways of figuring out how the hell to deal with problems that didn’t have to involve books.

“And where you heading off to, Angelcakes?” Lorne asked as the vampire rushed by him down the stairs. The tumbler in the green demon’s hand was already half-finished, a reminder that the day had lagged on quite enough that taking off the edge was more than reasonable. 

“Lorne,” he greeted without even looking in the man’s direction. “Exactly who I was looking for. Follow me.”

“What – me?” He followed quickly after, swept up in a confusing race. “I’ll have you know I’m not much of a fighter, but if it’s a serenade we’re talking, I’ve been working on a mean soprano.”

“It’s the empath skills I’m looking for.” Angel continued without stopping. “I am not allowing a demon to remain in my hotel on blind faith alone.”

It was a struggle for the green demon to keep up as he stormed through the lobby toward the basement. “Well, if it’ll ease your nerves, I’ll certainly put my best foot forward,” Lorne said hesitantly. “You know I’m in your camp, right, Angel? The way the kid I used to hold in my arms goes bounding after her like some puppy, it’s not exactly my cup of tea. But before we go down there –” He grabbed the vampire’s arm. The pale man glowered back at him, but at least he had finally stopped. “This is on one condition, comprendo?”

Angel frowned.

“This team needs you with your head on your shoulders, Angel. And that means not letting this swallow you whole again like it did before. The kid wants to like you, but you need to give him a chance to do that. Give – give us all a chance to calm down, alright big guy? All I want for _you_ is to take a load off. If this reading gets you flowing right again, then I’ll be a happy man.”

“And if it doesn’t?” He asked. “If there’s something wrong with her?”

“Then I’ll still be on your side one hundred percent. As much as that kid’s changed, I helped raise him. I’m not about to let him go off getting taken advantage up by some all-powerful monster with the secrets of the universe. Even as it stands, I don’t disagree with you. You’re not the only one spooked by something else shooting through that portal.”

Angel’s face softened from the stone it had been for so long. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Okay. Good. Let’s go.”

“I was a bit curious about what I might see from a reading anyways, you know?” the green demon continued as they descended. “I know I get recognized quite a lot, I mean, look at me, but she’s less of the fabulous party going type and more of the kind you don’t wanna meet up with on a dark and stormy night? Her knowing my name had got me feeling a little, well, strange. She was a little too familiar for my tastes, and believe me, that’s hard to accomplish. Did I tell you about the guy I had to meet to get that rip in the fabric of reality fixed up? Man was all hands, and I mean all of em. Nothing but.” Lorne laughed to himself. “I have to laugh, ya see, because if I don’t I’ll cry. At least it worked out. But boy howdy I am never doing that again – HOLY MOLY –”

Angel stopped short in front of the cell. It was perfectly untouched, the locks still in place and the metal unwarped and unbroken. Yet there had been his son on the floor, resting up against the back of it with his eyes closed in the middle of sleep. And lying beside him, its head resting on his thigh, was a tiger. Its eyes were open and staring at them, its tail idly flicking against the bars of the cell.

But as soon as Lorne had spoken, Connor’s eyes flew open and his hand immediately went for his jean pocket and his arm. It took him a second to realize none of his weapons were with him anymore, and that instead there were these stupid jean pockets and buckles in the way. Nothing large enough to hold anything more than a tiny knife. He cursed under his breath, then tightened his grip around the scruff of the tiger instead. The creature let out a quiet groan. Blinking at Angel, it licked its sharp teeth, but didn’t even bother to bear them.

“What do you want?” Connor demanded.

“You weren’t kidding when you called her an animal.” Lorne muttered. “She’s a real maneater. That… That is her, right? Not just some random zoo escapee?”

“What is this?” Angel demanded.

“She wouldn’t leave, because she wanted your trust,” Connor hotly retorted. “So we stayed.”

“But what about you in the cell? And the tiger? What else should I know about?!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Connor yelled back.

Angel went quiet. He took one last look at the broken cell, swallowed, then turned around and crossed his arms. “Lorne. Do your reading.”

“Not to be a downer, Angel, but I’m not exactly well versed in translating the musical talent of the animal kingdom.”

Connor got up in an instant to push himself in front of the animal. “That filthy demon won’t touch her. I won’t let him.”

Lorne held up his hands and took a couple steps back for good measure. He didn’t need to read the Destroyer to get the murderous intent coming off him in waves. “Kid believe me, you couldn’t pay me to put a hand anywhere near your fireplace rug of fangs and claws. I’m just here to read her aura, maybe get a little future, get the details on what she’s all about. All I need is a few song notes, and all of us can stop pointing fingers.” He nodded toward the vampire. “Even Angel over there will finally chill his roll, and between you and me? Guy needs it.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust you,” he spat.

“What can _I_ do? There’s a whole cell separating the two of us. I’m just the messenger kid, I even come unarmed.” He grinned meekly as he pointed to the tumbler in his hand. “Except for necessities, of course.”

The tiger left the boy’s grasp with words of disdain melting away on his tongue. The fur rippled, then melted to skin and fabric as she shifted back in a simple stretch of her back. Her eyes were focused on Lorne the entire time. There wasn’t much change in intimidation between human and tiger. And without her voice, he could already sense _something_. But that wasn’t going to satisfy the moody vamp beside him.

She stood, and Connor did too. His shoulders hunched, his eyes kept flickering between the green demon and Shift. “So, sing a few lines? Is that all?” She tried to sound noncommittal, but if Lorne got even a whiff of the future, and of Jasmine, then she was screwed. 

“Or whistle, hum if you’re a little shy.”

Shift swallowed.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” Lorne said incredulously.

“I’m not shy,” she muttered. She balled her hand into a fist.

Connor had never heard Shift sing before. But this was deep, and hearty, just like her laugh. Warm, that was the word. Filling him up like a good meal. He didn’t understand a word of it, but he still wished it was longer. 

Angel, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the strange rock tune he didn’t recognize, too busy focused on the green demon that had grown pale as a bedsheet. The vampire reached out to steady Lorne’s, but the demon pushed him away with a wave of his hand and instead clasped at the bars of the cage. This wasn’t the worst he had ever suffered through, but in the present there was an intensity to her presence he found hard to swallow. There was power. Something deep, something strong, and something vibrantly dark. Not evil, but hand on his chest, something big.

The song didn’t last more than a few lines, but when he was done, he was staring at her like he’d seen a ghost. “Right,” he said, then coughed and adjusted his necktie, mostly just so he could clutch at his own chest. “Holy mother of demony fire, now I know what we’re working with.”

“What?” Angel demanded. The last time he’d seen Lorne look that pale green was when he’d explained a reading of a man that nearly caused the end of the world. “What did you see?”

Shift silently watched the two of them with her hackles raised.

“Well, first of all, her aura – which is excruciatingly hot in the temperature sense, like, wow, big fan but don’t kill me thanks – is all about protecting your son. And, to be honest, I didn’t even need a reading for that, big guy.” He gestured to the girl. “It’s practically plastered all over her.”

“Are you sure?” The vampire asked uncertainly.

“That’s not all, Angelcakes,” Lorne added, and Shift tensed up further. “Next, and this is the part that’s got me real confused, is that – ”

“Don’t.” The demon growled. Lorne jumped, and Angel glared at her. She shrank beneath the gaze of the two of them, and took a step back as she tried to remain more aloof. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she turned away, and swallowed. “I – I wouldn’t, Lorne. Probably… Probably something that messes with the timeline, y’know?”

“Like I’m going to buy that now,” Angel snapped.

“Wouldn’t what, chiquita?” Lorne raised an eyebrow. “That future of yours is as foggy as the center of Pittsburgh. I couldn’t see a thing if I tried. Why, was there something I was supposed to see? Anything you’d like to share with the class? Like, for example, how you knew who I was despite the fact that no one around here has a clue who _you_ are?”

“No,” she said. Internally, she was breathing out the biggest sigh of relief, but externally she was struggling to keep up the façade of an uncaring attitude. “Well,” she grinned sheepishly. “I _do_ know you. The same way I knew Connor, or about Angel. It’s like I told him, the other world, and all that jazz. I only know so much, but I knew you, just like I knew Connor.”

“Well I’d certainly hope you wouldn’t know me like _that,_ missy.”

“No, no! I’m just saying, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m from – well, what else did you see?”

“Other than the smoky-eyed future you got going on? Not much. Maybe a whiff of a past, but even that’s covered in a thick layer of pocket lint. All I saw really was Connor.”

The Destroyer perked up, and Angel looked like he’d had a couple pounds of cement for a late lunch. The fire demon swallowed, and Lorne sipped at his drink. “Of course,” he continued. “No way for me to know specifics. But that was no child I saw back there. If anything, that kid looked older.”

The Destroyer rushed to the front and clanged against the cell walls as he gripped the metal, and Lorne took more than a couple steps back. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything else? Nothing at all?” His eyes were wide with wonder. “Nothing else about me?”

“Sorry, kid, just a shoddy image of you and nothing more.”

“But what did I look like? Did I have a beard? Did I look stronger?”

“Connor,” she sighed.

“You looked… Taller?” Lorne grimaced. “Kid, I hate to break it to you, but this is more of a vibe thing more of the time than an actual premonition. That’s more Cordy’s gig.”

  
“You have to have seen something! Other people – ”

“So there’s nothing, then,” Shift interrupted. Angel’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. The Destroyer deflated as he slowly backed away from front of the cell. “I’m just a blank slate to you all.”

You’d be right about that.” Lorne frowned. “The problem is the context, which is what we were hoping for. But let’s not forget the important thing here.” The green demon fixed her with a solemn gaze. “I could see that your intentions are good. It was right up there with that power you got hiding inside. And that’s enough in my book to believe you.” 

Angel’s mouth soured. “Not for me.” He muttered. The drawn-out gaze watching her every reminded Shift of a snake waiting to strike. Like a standoff, the two of them stared each other down and waited for someone to make a move.

“Lorne,” Angel eventually muttered. “Anything else to add before I take my son out of this cage?”

The green demon sighed. “Well, one last thing - going to Wolfram and Hart? Bad idea.” Lorne nodded toward the fire demon. “The kind of strength in that aura of hers is through the roof. Yeah, the minute they catch a whiff of what exactly we got, they’re going to be all over here like cockroaches. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t have the exterminator on speed dial.” 

“Right.” Angel’s mouth set into a deeper frown than before.

Angel continued to stare at the fire demon long after Lorne had left. It was stupid. What kind of pissing contest, playing chicken bullshit was he trying to pull? She ended up crossing her eyes just to get some kind of reaction, but there here was nothing, not even a snort. And then he turned his gaze to Connor, like nothing had even happened. No reaction at all, not even after all he’d gotten from Lorne.

“Connor,” he said.

“I’m not leaving.”

Angel’s jaw tightened.

“Alright,” the vampire eventually said. “Fine. You can stay there. And I’ll take care of this mysterious pain in my side personally –”

“Connor, just go with the idiot,” Shift broke in. Connor stared cluelessly back at the demon, and she smiled. “Just go. For me. Please.”

There was that shift in Angel’s expression she was looking for. Yeah, that’s right, bub. She wasn’t going to argue, even when his son was all for going against him. Angel liked to think he was slick, with that constant brooding thing he had going on, but when he stopped crossing his arms like he was hiding himself away that was the signal that he was only mostly a guarded cold hard-ass.

“I’m not going to leave you here alone,” Connor argued. All he’d learned from that confrontation was that this monster had it out for Shift even more than he thought. “And I’m _definitely_ not about to go with this, this…”

“He’s never going to shut up if we don’t do what he asks. He cares about you too much for that.” She turned back to Angel and crossed her arms with a wry smirk. “And until he trusts me, I’m staying here.” She leaned forward to squeeze Connor’s hand, her gaze now the one holding Angel’s. “And I mean that, Angel. Whatever it takes. I’m here to save the kid, not hurt him.”

“Save the kid, and then what?”

“I dunno, I still haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed.

Connor reluctantly left the cage, then the room, with a parting glance back toward Shift. But Angel didn’t. He stayed there, his arms still crossed, looking like he was about to break his teeth with the force of his clenching. Shift regarded him for a moment, then stretched her arms and sat back in the center of the cell.

“You look like you really need to take a shit,” she said.

“Why couldn’t Lorne read you?”

“I’m guessing because my existence goes beyond the jurisdictions of your world.”

“Not good enough.”

“Angel, I have no fucking clue what’s going on anymore at this point. You and I are both dealing with things we don’t understand. All I can do is give you my best guess.”

“What were you afraid of Lorne seeing from you?”

She smiled. “Angel, if you knew all the future, wouldn’t you want to keep it close to your chest for fear of what you say coming to pass all that sooner?”

“I’d stop it.” He uncrossed his arms. “If you have information regarding my son and the future, then you better start spilling if you want me to ever trust you.”

“Your son…” The words were right there. _‘Your son is in terrible danger,’_ she could say. ‘ _Your son is about to be tempted by your will-they-won’t-they right hand woman.’_ Or maybe, _‘Your son is going to go mad and end up killing himself because he fucked a demon who gave birth to end of the world and that’s not great for a teen’s mental health.’_ Any of those would work. And it would feel nice for a hot second. Right before Jasmine used whatever powers she had from her position on high to rectify the plotline that the fire demon was tearing up peg by peg.

Shift trailed off, leaned forward, and placed her head in her hands. “Your son is going to be dealing with the problem of living in a brand-new world. You should be there for him. He’s going to make terrible, stupid mistakes, and you have to have the patience to deal with them. Even if they’re so bad you wish you could kill him for it.”

“You didn’t even answer my question –”

He was cut off by the imploring eyes of the demon before him. Knowing, desperate eyes that begged him with a gaze alone.

“Please, Angel,” she murmured. “Please.” She swallowed, then smiled as best she could. “Don’t… Don’t trust me, then. I’m good with that. That’s not the important thing here. And you and I both know that.”

The vampire faltered at first, then gripped the bars of the cage as he peered intently down at her. “You told me you wanted me to trust you.”

“It’s fine.”

It took far too long for Angel to let go of the bars.

The vampire took a few steps back, then looked down at her. Even he wasn’t entirely oblivious. And he knew when someone was faking a smile for all the right reasons.

“We’re not done here,” he muttered.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."


	6. Benediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter that had any kind of previous draft attached to it (really, like 400 words). Everything after this will be me just writing from scratch. This means there may be more time in between chapters as I'm both editing and writing rather than just the intensive editing I was doing before. It may also not be as polished... 
> 
> Good news is we're only about nine episodes away from this ending, give or take a couple! That means probably like 36 chapters. hahaaaaaa *cries*

In the gardens at the center of the Hyperion Hotel, the sunlight of the day after Connor’s sudden reappearance sparkled down through the open sunroof, illuminating the leafy green foliage that reminded the Groosalugg so much of Pylea. At its center, a fountain burbled gently, the centerpiece of a silent Eden. Vines trailed up walls and trellises to the floor above. Groo leaned against one of the columns holding up the secret garden and ruminated in the solace. He preferred this place over most others in the hotel. Here it was quiet, as the vampire Angel could not tread here during the day. Where Angel went, most all others followed, and Groo had spent too much time walking in the shadow of a man that was already so cold to the touch.

Weeks, Angel had spent with Cordelia. Weeks, as soon as the two of them had returned from their vacation. Weeks, without returning to their apartment, without uttering a word. All that was on her lips was the question of his happiness.

It wasn’t simply grief anymore. Because the light in her eyes had dulled for the Groosalugg, slowly and steadily. Every night date night had become more obligation than entertainment. And they sparkled whenever she saw _him_. Every day she walked into work more excited than the last.. Never before had they been that way for the Groosalugg. The expression that she’d had when she first saw the chiseled warrior from another dimension did not hold a candle to the face she made when she joined Angel for coffee.

He did not hate the vampire. He could never hate a selfless warrior as accomplished as that man. Angel was his companion in many battles. A true ally, and friend. But as the Groosalugg warmed himself in the light of the small, single sun of Earth, the Pylean champion could not help but feel such an unfamiliar emotion festering inside him, slowly but surely taking control of his faculties like a poison. It was an ugly thing, one he wished he could battle. But one can not battle which exists inside oneself. One can only feel it grow and grow until Groo himself began to worry if maybe this was one fight he will not win.

Jealousy hurts. It hurts almost as much as seeing the woman one loves look at another with beloved visions in their eyes. But in the warmth of this garden, perhaps it could hurt a little less.

It was not a pain that could be hidden, however. Especially not by an empath. Groo’s aura reeked of indecision and anxiety, and it drew Lorne to him like a moth to a flame.

“Hey.” The green demon approached from the lobby as he pushed his hands in the pockets of his fashionable red overcoat. The soft voice permeated the stagnant air of the garden, but oddly did not feel out of place. He was as welcome as the sun. “Something, uh, troubling you bubby?”

Groo smiled as he turned to his companion. As he leaned against one of the garden’s trellises with his hands resting in front of him, he struck a strange picture of regality that did not suit the cropped hair, nor the baggy coat he wore. Cordelia had dressed him and he had taken it without complaint, but any other would see it as a discounted replacement for someone else. Groo was not a man of modernity, and everyone seemed to see that but the woman he loved. “Indeed,” he sighed. “I am confused.”

“About what?”

“Angel, his aggression puzzles me. When Connor was taken from him, he moved heaven and targna to try and win him back.”

“Yeah, he sure did,” Lorne chuckled hesitantly. “Hence our weekly scrubbing of the lobby floor.”

“Now his son is here. And he holds his son close, which I understand. But he tears his son apart from the mate he won on his journey. It only seems to draw Connor further away from him, yet Angel does not cease.”

Lorne grimaced. “Well, Angel sure does love his son. We all do. And sometimes we do things that we think will help those we love in some way, when it really doesn’t. And maybe that’s to make us feel better, or because we think it makes them feel better. But that’s not always best for those we love. Sometimes it does the opposite, and just makes everything worse.”

“How can we know what is best for those we love?”

“Well, we can’t, really,” Lorne sighed. “Sometimes we have to let things go, and let the river take its course. If a thing’s meant to be sometimes it’s best to just let it happen rather than try to force it.”

“But if a thing is meant to be, then how can it be forced?”

The green demon frowned. “Well, I guess it can’t.”

“And if a thing is not meant to be?” Groo asked.

“Well, then it really can’t. Just ‘cause someone hops a dimension or two is no guarantee things will work out –” Lorne stopped, then grimaced. “Well, aren’t you just sneaky with the subtext?”

The steps the champion of Pylea took were meandering, slow. The center of the garden smelled fresh, and as he hit the light beams directly on his face, he could hear the faint sound of birds if he strained his ears above the noisy traffic that he had never quite gotten accustomed to. His feet paused beside a pile of swept up dead leaves, then turned back to the green demon.

“It is a beautiful day.” The Groosalugg smiled. “If my princess asks, tell her I have gone for a walk.”

He continued toward the doorway out of the garden, then stopped himself. As he turned back to Lorne, the empath’s heart panged. It did not take a reading to feel what the Groosalugg felt. It reverberated throughout the garden, and hit him like gunshot wounds. And there was nothing that Lorne could do for him.

“If she asks,” Groo finished, still smiling.

The champion of Pylea walked through the doorway. Lorne looked down at his feet, then back, just as lost as he was. Life turned, and continued to turn, and nothing lasts forever. Lorne knew that. He just wished it didn’t have to hurt so dang much.

These poor kids. Everywhere he turned, it seemed like something was making them hurt inside. 

…

The small apartment was as cold as Wesley’s microwave dinner was hot. It steamed from under the plastic packaging as he tried to open it and bit him back for his impatience. He flinched, then turned to the bottle of cheap wine he’d bought from the nearby liquor store and filled his glass instead. The shite tasted more like vinegar, but it was manageable. As was most things in his life, like the bank account of his savings that was ever so slowly dwindling. Manageable, even if slowly veering off-kilter into the world of entropic devastation. At least he had his books.

The meal before him was as much a farce as his life was these days. As he gazed down upon it, he could feel the poetic justice wafting up to his nostrils. It smelled like melted plastic and Hungry Man gravy. The both of them were pretending to be a real meal.

The man settled into the food that tasted like nothing. He had long since passed the threshold of shaky utensils, and there was some satisfaction in the chilled confidence he had in being able to eat without the interruption of his own weak body. Not so weak anymore, he supposed. After all he had been through, he wasn’t sure it would ever be weak again. 

Wesley could no longer afford to show weakness. Not to anyone. Not even himself. Even if he still saw the eyes of Angel’s murderous intent when he woke up in a cold sweat. Even if he still remembered the night that his throat had been slit when he stared at the ceiling, wide awake and unable to let that elusive sleep come for him. The clocked ticked on and on.

The man no longer believed in such idyllic fantasies. Heroism was something written about in fairy tales. He was no hero. He knew what he really was. The book sitting in front of him on the kitchen table mocked him incessantly about it.

But he would never admit any of this. Because there was someone that would not leave him alone. And if he showed weakness for even a moment, then he would show his hand, and Lilah would descend upon him like a vulture. And he would not bring himself to be the carrion she seemed to crave. He had not yet sunk that low.

The copy of Dante’s Inferno in its original Tuscan was currently bookmarked on the description of the devil with his many mouths. In its main set of jowls, Lilah had oh so eloquently described for him, was Judas. The traitor, she’d emphasized, growing far too close for his comfort as she did. Her lips had pursed in that obnoxious way right before she grinned like the hyena she was. Quite on the nose, he thought, even for her. And yet it took up space on his table. He’d even flipped through it a little, checking for some kind of enchantment she might have used to spy on him with. There was nothing. Purely mental warfare. It almost made him smile.

She had no idea what went on in his head. No one did. And he would never let her. No one needed to know what he felt about Angel, or his son, or any of what had transpired. That was private, for him and him alone. Whether that meant going over what could have been constantly like a worry stone, or treating it with the harsh logic he had with most things in his watcher days, no one needed to know.

Sometimes he didn’t even know.

The screech of a laptop email notification startled the Englishman out of his thoughts.

There was no one that would call him. There was no one left at all. Except for the bloody copy of Dante sitting in front of him. It was almost as thought Lilah had managed a way to taunt him from all sides at once. Never a moment of peace. He stared down at his food, then shifted the plastic tray so that it was no longer crooked. The more he looked at it, the more it looked like hospital food. Or prison food.

And now he’d lost his appetite.

Wesley rose from the kitchen table and ambled his way over to the living room. The dusty couch shifted under his weight as he leaned forward on the coffee table and adjusted the computer screen to get a better look at the email on the early 2000s monitor.

_‘782 W. Palm Terrace. 8:30 PM. Come Alone.’_

The man frowned, and sat back, eyebrows half raised for a moment.

A trap, probably. Most likely, based on the attempts thus far of Lilah. Perhaps after Dante they had decided enough was enough and believed that they were better off just kidnapping him and bringing him back to their lawyer lair to pump for information. Perhaps this would be the end of him.

But since when did Wesley have much sense of self-preservation these days?

…

Connor was trapped within this hotel, and it wasn’t by any physical means. He could leave out the door whenever he liked, of course, and not even his father would be able to stop him. But as long as the fire demon remained stationary out of principle in the basement of the Hyperion Hotel, he might as well have been chained to a tree.

So he stalked the halls like a restless animal, investigating every new thing that seemed more strange and otherworldly than the last. The Destroyer jumped at the sound of a phone ringing, growled at the cars outside, and watched the office computer screen like it was a magic portal.

Free reign to explore was another ask on Angel’s part met with raised eyebrows. The rest of the group saw it as having to deal with a deranged kid wandering the halls, while Angel saw it as acclimatizing a cat that he’d just brought home from the humane society. There was a trust that needed to be built up, he insisted, trust that he needed to cultivate slowly over time. As much as he disliked the company the kid kept, he didn’t want to punish his own son for curiosity. It wasn’t Connor that didn’t sit well with Angel. It was the real problem, who was safely locked away. 

At least the Destroyer was more cautious than he was aggressive, as long as the vamp wasn’t nearby. Borderline human, when you caught him in a good mood, though that was rare.

That wasn’t to say that he ever strayed close, or stayed for too long. It was almost funny how much alike he and his father were in how quickly they seemed to disappear. More than a few times Fred had bumped into Connor in one of the halls, tried to apologize, and had the words die on her tongue as he turned into another corridor before she could even finish her sentence. She was left to just watch his disappearing mop of hair while adjusting her glasses and overcoming that frazzled surprise. It was uncanny, she’d tell Gunn when she found him again. Even the jawline was similar. And the body. She hadn’t really noticed it, but he was a well-built young man that looked strangely akin to his father.

Gunn said she’d been looking too hard.

Connor came across a perfect image of himself in the form of a mirror, and for the first time he got a chance to take a proper look at himself as well. The kid leaned over the porcelain sink and was shocked by the own color of his eyes. He’d never realized just how icy blue they were, or how predatory. The grime had washed away with the first shower he’d taken in this world, but that wild look in his eyes had remained. Quor’toth was tinged with violence and rage, and it was that instinct that had grown with him and helped him survive. It was a strength, he knew, but it’s also what kept him from being able to settle here.

As he tilted his head up and rubbed his own jaw, he could feel the very beginnings of bristling. He narrowed his eyes, and couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little at the discovery.

But the real test came when he opened his mouth, and prodded his canines. The tip of his finger traced around its edge, then pressed in further thoughtfully. He couldn’t _feel_ anything there. But maybe he wasn’t looking hard enough.

Cordelia watched from the doorway to the bathroom as the young man barred his teeth in the mirror with a growl to emphasize his ferocity. When nothing happened, he’d try again, holding up his hands this time in the shape of claws. Still nothing.

The woman coughed with a faint smile. Startled, the young man turned abruptly about with all the tension of a viper about to strike. She realized a little too late that she was standing in the doorway blocking his only method of escape and tried to make up for it by bowing out. That disarming smile wasn’t enough to soothe the elastic tension in the kid she used to know.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she offered as he rushed by her. He barely barked out more than a response of “S’fine” before he was disappearing down another hallway with his tail between his legs.

Connor wasn’t used to shaking off embarrassment. He didn’t even know what that meant. But he knew that he wasn’t a fan of the way she’d looked at him, or that she’d been watching him in the first place. There were suddenly so many more eyes watching him. Judging him. It made his skin itch.

Just like being left weaponless. The feeling of nothing in his hands was uncomfortable. Of course, he’d spent more than his fair share of time in hand-to-hand combat, but deep in enemy territory he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was underequipped.

Surrendering his sword and crossbow hadn’t come easy. Now he was starting to regret it every minute he didn’t have them.

At least he could gain crucial reconnaissance without the rest of the group looking at him like he was about to murder them in their sleep. Even if he did occasionally cast longing glances to his own equipment, he could see far more interesting toys just beyond in the glass cabinet kept guarded by a flimsy lock. Armaments were never far away, and he was still more than strong enough to fight without them. In fact, the thought of his fist colliding with that vampire’s face sounded far more satisfying than a simple wooden stake through the heart.

Connor’s first day in the human world came and went, and as he watched the single sun set on the horizon from a third-floor window overlooking the street below, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The night air was filled with smoke and smog, and smells unlike any he had ever come across. Beneath him, LA was still just beginning to wake up, and as he stared across the thousands of buildings and swarms before him, he was only now beginning to realize the extent of Shift’s words. The human world was far, far bigger than he ever could have imagined. Breathless, he tried to make sense of what he could. He could hear voices, the shrieks of breaks being used in a busy intersection, the shouts from drunken college students, and the constant honking of vehicles stuck in traffic. Further away, he could pick up the popping of maybe gunfire, or fireworks, not that the Destroyer would know what either of those were. The sky overhead glowed with lights that flashed incessantly below. There was no such thing as total darkness in a metropolis.

Connor stepped away from the window and was for the first time thankful that he was imprisoned in this stupid hotel.

The overstimulation left Connor with prickled gooseflesh and eyes seconds away from closing, but as he passed by room after room, he never stopped at each for very long. Every bed seemed colder than the last, and the Destroyer couldn’t settle if his life depended on it. Angel had offered to set up a temporary room for him to stay, but he’d waved it off with a gruff insistence that he was fine on his own. He would never take anything from the vampire. Even if it did have blankets and pillows, and looked exceedingly comfortable.

Sleeping in a place like this would have been impossible if not for a certain demon whose heartbeat remained somewhere deep in his psyche. He needed that comfort. That warmth. Something to take the edge of when every hair stood on end telling him he should run as far away from the noise as he could. He wanted back in the cell again. In fact, he’d practically demanded it. But Shift, smiling, told him no, and he hated that. She’d been agreeing with the vampire an awful lot these days.

But all was forgiven when he stubbornly lay down at the base of the cage, and she reached through the bars to pet his hair. She had to hand it to him, he was even more of a stubborn idiot than she gave him credit for, refusing to sleep on an actual bed for the first time in his life. But she couldn’t blame him either. Lost, confused, maybe even a little scared, there was a darkness in his heart that she could only reach when she was close to him.

That was probably the only thing that could have gotten him to sleep that night. It was also the thing that sanctified his dreams. The gentle hand of the only person he trusted was just enough, for now. A heart still stained with the world of Quor’toth was a heart unable to truly find calm.

He awoke the next morning with her hand placed on his forehead. She wasn’t necessarily asleep, more so dozing in the quiet dripping darkness of the old hotel basement, but her eyes were closed. Black shaggy hair framed a body hunched over and resting against the side of the cage. The position couldn’t have been comfortable, but neither was his. When he shifted to sit up she gripped his hand gently before retracting it through the bars.

“Morning, joker,” she murmured.

“Morning.”

“You didn’t even leave the hotel yesterday, did you.” It wasn’t really a question. He looked down sheepishly.

“Seriously,” she sighed. Her head pressed forward up against the bars and he followed suit until they were staring at each other with only inches between them. “I know this is… Not ideal. But going out there is good for you, even if it looks scary.”

“I’m not going without you.”

“You’re not leaving me behind. The more time I spend here showing Angel I’m not the bad guy, the less likely we are to have problems in the future.” Her eyes grew soft. “But I can’t be your security blanket for the human world. You need to find yourself, too. And that’s something you need to do on your own. I know you’re good at learning, Connor. So learn about the world I keep telling you about. Now you finally have the chance for a hands-on lesson. It’s not exactly what we planned, but maybe this is for the best.” 

“But we promised that we would do this together,” he argued. “What happened to our future? What happened to running off together and doing what we want to?”

“We will. Everything. I didn’t know this would happen, and I should have, but that doesn’t mean it never will. And look on the bright side.” She grinned. “By the time Angel will let me out, maybe you can take me to one of your favorite places.”

His heart panged again. “But…” He trailed off, dropped his eyes, and sighed. A moment later his stomach was rumbling, and she let go of his hand, her eyes full of teasing amusement.

“Go on,” she insisted. “Get something in that black hole of yours. You haven’t eaten since we got here.” She sat back on her haunches and crossed her arms.

Connor marched himself up the stairs to look for a proper breakfast. He looked over his shoulder once, and she was still there, watching him. Just like she would be when he got back.

The fire demon had told him about the food of this world all the time in Quor’toth. She spoke about it with such reverence despite her inability to eat it herself that he often wondered just how good it could really be. With all the stress of dimensional travel, hunger hadn’t even crossed his mind until she had said it herself. But now there was a familiar emptiness in his gut and a sensory clarity that came with several missed meals. His nose was what led him down the trail to the hotel lobby in search of something that smelled suspiciously like food.

Turned out Connor had a sweet tooth. The cookies and donuts next to the coffee lasted all of five minutes. Gunn and Fred looked on in terror. When Connor eyed the donut in his hand, Gunn just placed it back down on the platter and backed the hell away. After the atrocity he’d witnessed, he was no longer hungry anyways.

That meal tided Connor over for a few hours, but the sugar rush had him back to restlessly prowling the musty halls again. Every hallway seemed to branch off in different directions. If all the structures in this world were so confusing, he’d rather go find a patch of woods to live in. Not being able to find his way at first just made him more frustrated than before.

He could always go back to Shift, he knew. She was comforting, and she was uncomplicated. Her scent was familiar, and he still sometimes found himself itching for a newer memory of her heartbeat. But he hated doing nothing, too. And sitting around doing nothing was only going to make him feel worse.

Even the walking made him bored. And hungry. As he scratched the back of his neck and ended up at the lobby again, he cast a glance at the empty platter of food and wished he hadn’t eaten as quickly as he had.

“Angel!” Cordelia pulled the vampire aside in his office. The vampire looked like a deer in headlights as she handed him a couple of wadded up bills from her purse. Her face was oddly blistering with excitement. The breathless way she looked at him made the vampire himself go mute as he looked down at the money, then back to her.

“… What’s this for?”

“Can’t you see your son looks like a wandering puppy looking for scraps?” She patted the man’s shoulder, squeezed it, and gave him a wry smile. “Go get him a pizza. Matter of fact, get us all some pizza. Gunn and Fred have been working their butts off for you, they could use a little break.” 

“It’s five in the afternoon,” he hesitated.

“Which is why you’re going down below,” she said. “Sewers. Listen.” She pressed closer. “If you, the big dad, get your son the first good meal he’s had in this world, that will look pretty good for you, don’t you think?”

He grimaced. “Remind me again why you can’t go?”

“I have the end of another job to deal with. Water demon invading the old lady’s kitchen sink, remember? Between tall dark and broody and the green horned one I’m the only hand on deck that she won’t close the door on.” She patted his shoulder, turned him around, and pushed him out the door.

“Wait –” he paused, and looked back at her. “Do you think… Do you think I made the right call? Giving him time? Letting him be? He’s just… Pacing. Like he’s trapped. But he’s not.” He looked over to his son, still wandering the top of the staircase with all intent and no destination. Cordelia blinked in surprise at the vampire’s quiet demeanor.

“I think it’s a step in the right direction,” she said.

“He’ll see how much you love him eventually, Angel. And after all he’s been through, this is the best thing you could give him. He’s allowed to leave whenever he wants. You can’t make him choose freedom.” She nodded in affirmation, and he hesitated a smile. “Now, go,” she grinned. “And make mine a vegetarian.”

Angel shook his head and pocketed the money.

…

For the first time in Connor’s life, he beheld majesty unlike any other. The smell had brought him to the lobby like a moth following light, and it was right there in front of him with steam still rising from its top. It was right there, in front of him, sitting on a bench in the hotel lobby with steam still rising from the top. Paper plates were left haphazardly to the side of three pizzas that Angel hovered over like they were prized gems. Despite the scent that left Connor’s stomach aching to be filled, he approached the sight like an easily startled deer. 

“Connor.” Angel quickly stepped out of the way and plastered a warm smile on his face. “I knew you’d come. Smells good, doesn’t it? Help yourself.”

“What is it?” He asked warily.

“Pizza. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I – uh - got a few different kinds.”

On another couch Gunn and Fred were already feasting on the meat lovers they’d asked for. After hours of research with nothing to show for it, this might not have been the dinner date they were hoping for, but it was one that neither of them could complain about. Connor looked their way, and Gunn quickly wedged the box between the two of them.

“Nuh uh,” the older man warned. “You got _three_ pizzas with your name on it, you keep back. I saw what you did to those donuts.” He turned back to the box to grab another slice, only to gawk at its near empty state. Fred grinned sheepishly as she piled her own slices on top of her paper plate like a budget lasagna.

“You snooze you lose, slowpoke,” she teased, then took a bit out of all four of them at once.

Gunn smiled in disbelief. “I’ve never been more upset and proud in my entire life.”

Connor shuffled closer to the lobby couch, then picked up the box like it was made of glass.

“I’m not sure what you eat,” Angel said hesitantly. “But I assumed you liked donuts, so – ”

“I don’t drink blood like you,” the Destroyer said sharply.

“I… didn’t think you did.” Angel’s eyebrows narrowed. “… But your girlfriend certainly does.”

Connor glowered at him. There were no responses he could shout at the vampire that had the desired bite he wanted. But there was a seat on the far end of the lobby next to the staircase, and it was there he retreated away from the rest of the group to devour the first real food he’d eaten in this dimension. The first was hesitant, almost reluctant, but every one after that was so aggressive that the vampire was worried he’d choke. It was heaven. Fat, cheesy heaven.

“Good to know he’s not a picky eater.” Cordelia appeared alongside the vampire with a couple of sneaky slices she had grabbed on her way in balanced on a paper napkin. She still had her car keys in hand from the trip over.

“Nice of you to show up. And yeah,” the vampire breathed. He couldn’t help but smile. “Slow down,” he said tentatively to the kid. “It’s not going anywhere.”

Connor fixed him with a look often reserved for starving stray dogs, then went back to finishing his pizza in record time. By the time he had gotten to his second, he had finally slowed down enough to observe as well as eat. Angel was watching him right back, and whenever he looked to the vampire’s watchful eyes, he twitched with uncomfortable tension.

“Why are you doing this?” He eventually asked, when the vampire saw the opportunity to approach without his hand being bitten off.

“Connor, you’re my son,” he murmured. “I’m trying to do what fathers do.”

“You’re not my father,” Connor spat. It didn’t really have its usual bite when his mouth was still half full of pizza. And as he looked down at the food that Angel had given him, the befuddlement just made it worse. “You’re a monster,” he muttered.

“I may be,” the vampire said, “but I’m also your father, even if I wasn’t around when I wanted to be.”

Connor quietly chewed, swallowed, then pushed the rest of the box away and crossed his arms. “I don’t like it when you do this,” he muttered.

“Do what?”

“Play with my mind. I don’t like games. Manipulation.”

“Connor,” Angel exasperated, “I’m not trying to manipulate you here. I just want you to feel comfortable.” He sighed. “Why don’t we talk about something else? How was exploring the hotel?”

“… Fine,” he said shortly.

“That’s good. I’m glad. It’s a… it’s a nice hotel.”

“… Yeah.”

“You know, the offer of a room still hands,” Angel began. “You really don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not staying here.” The Destroyer retorted. “Not for longer than I have to.” The kid waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wary eyes kept close watch on the mannerisms of the vampire. He wiped the grease off his face with the back of his sleeve, and waited for him to order something impossible. 

“You’re not being held here against your will, son,” Angel said carefully.

“You have Shift,” he rebuffed. The vampire sighed, then glanced at the window outside.

“It’ll be dark soon,” Angel said. “I was thinking, maybe I could take the night off. The two of us could go out. See a movie, or something. Go for a walk. I could show you parts of the city that are quieter.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Are you sure?” Angel smiled. “There’s a park not far from here. Nice and quiet. Lots of trees.”

The cogs in Connor’s head slowly turned. “… Can we bring Shift?”

The vampire flinched. “I was thinking just you and me for now. If that’s alright.” Connor’s expressed soured, and Angel sighed. “And then, maybe… Later, you could bring your… _girlfriend_ along too.”

“Girlfriend…” Connor said the words like they were utterly foreign on his tongue.

“What?!” Cordelia’s screech practically reverberated throughout the entire lobby. Gunn dropped his pizza on the floor and Angel whipped his head around like a shot. “Where?!” Cordelia stomped toward Angel with her hand around her ear.

“Cordy.” Angel went to meet her halfway, leaving Connor to watch the two in confusion.

“Angel!” She said sharply. “It’s a bar! Vampires! A gang of them!”

“Hold on,” he tried to say, but she couldn’t hear a word. Her eyes were both on him and far, far away as she tried to speak what she was seeing. “Angel, can you hear me?!” She continued relentlessly. “I can see her! A woman! Angel! She’s all alone! She doesn’t see them! Angel, you have to hurry!”

“Cordy, wait, slow down-“

She paused, and for the first time truly seemed to see the two of them. Connor’s entire body was tense. She couldn’t even speak at first, her mouth half open as she looked around and realized where she was. Not currently in the middle of a night club with pounding music and people too close for comfort, but rather the hotel, with a worried vampire in front of her. The vision had once again been completely different to what she was used to. The visions were getting more convoluted every time. “… There’s a woman, at a bar,” she said quickly, “there’s a gang of vampires that are after her, you have to help her.”

Angel nodded. “So much for an evening stroll, huh?” he joked solemnly before ducking away in preparation to leave. 

“Yeah,” she grimaced. “Sorry.”

Angel turned back to Connor in exasperated disarray. “Listen, um, I, uh, I have to go out for a while.”

Connor turned back to the pizza with narrowed eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s kind of my job,” he explained.

“No, it’s whatever,” Connor dismissed haphazardly, turning away from Angel to focus on eating the rest of his meal.

“It could be kind of… Dangerous,” Angel said carefully. “There’s a lot of killing, and violence…” He looked down at his son. “Do you wanna come?”

Connor slowly turned away from his pizza.


	7. Disco

The oppressive electronic beat could be felt just as much as heard in the over-populated early 2000s club scene. Calling it a bar was doing the place a disservice. Women in beaded crop tops and skirts rising up to their mid thighs danced in time with glow sticks decorating their hands, their arms up in the air and their bleached blond hair bouncing from side to side. Men in oversized t shirts and tight jeans pressed up against them and tried to keep up with the shaking hips and voracious laughter as above them vibrant colors danced from spotlights. Everything else was darkness, bathed in a general vague purple hue to accentuate that new age thrill. Wall to wall, the chic joint was packed with young, vulnerable, and half-drunk young adults dancing the night away in the city of LA with little left on their minds but having a good fucking time.

And Wesley was not here for any of it.

The Ex-Watcher was a fish out of water in between the neon and the hoop earrings against the backdrop of sweaty bodies. Not only did he seem at least ten years older with that five-o-clock shadow that he couldn’t get rid of, but his suit jacket and matching trousers seemed more appropriate for a dinner party than the stomping grounds of teens pretending to be old enough to drink.

So many people hollering like it was the end of the world. And here was Wesley, knowing full well that the world could have ended any number of times. The cynicism and hatred that seemed to cover any mote of logic the man had left prevented him from enjoying the second-hand life and laughter. That cold incredulity at all those young men and women... He wondered how many of them would live to see another day, and how little he cared about any of it anymore. The chill in his thoughts had frozen the part of him that would have cared about its existence in the first place.

“So you got my invitation.”

He took in a faint breath. A part of him wanted to believe that any other person would have bothered to reach out to him, but her voice that cut through the loud music like butter laid all those stupid hopes to rest.

“Lilah,” he sighed, then turned slowly from the railing to the familiar woman with a martini glass already in hand. “Obviously.”

Even she seemed out of place in the energetic atmosphere. She was far too polished, with those diamond earrings, that damn Rolex she pretended not to notice on her own arm, perfectly curled brunette locks, perfect manicures, perfect bloody dress – with one of her buttons purposefully left undone to show off…

“I thought the come alone was a particularly ironic touch,” she grinned. The man remained frozen as the overhead lights briefly hit his cold features to accentuate the deep lines that had developed in the last couple weeks. “I mean, how else would you come?”

Without a word, Wesley pushed past her.

“Don’t rush off,” she relented as she blocked him. “Just – look over there.” She pointed with her martini glass to the first floor below, and Wesley tried to see what the hell the damn woman was trying to accomplish.

But then his eyebrows furrowed.

“I went through a lot of trouble to arrange this little show for you.”

On one side of the first floor of the club was a trendy bar counter illuminated by the same neon theme as the rest of the club. Rows of drinks lining the wall behind it were lit up by more multicolored LEDs, giving each bottle the illusion of a vibrant color. While the bartender served drink after drink in quick succession to enthusiastic customers, he paid little mind to the hesitant, wary figure surveying the crowd from her bar stool perch. The drink in that woman’s hand remained untouched as she hunched over the counter.

Even from here, Wesley would recognize that face. He would recognize it in a crowd of hundreds, thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. After all, it was one of many that haunted his sleepless nights. And even now, as he looked at her, and at the hands that held that drink, he could imagine them wielding the knife that sliced upon his throat and then leaving him for dead.

Lilah raised her eyebrows as he turned back, but there was no change in his torpid face.

“Goodbye,” he snapped, and then continued past her shoulder to push through the throng of dancers.

Lilah turned around to watch him go rather than chase after him. She didn’t need physical contact to keep his attentions whetted, nor did she care for his little temper tantrums. “Okay, but leave now and you’ll miss your big death scene.”

As he turned around with that little quirk to his eyebrow, Lilah’s smirk widened. That was a face she loved to see on him. That combination of curiosity and wariness that proved there was more to him than the goody-two-shoes he’d tried to be at Angel Investigations.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to see the bitch that slit your throat and left you to die, get a little of her own back?” She offered.

“What’s going on here, Lilah?” He asked sharply.

“Some source,” she smiled to herself, “can’t imagine who, tipped her off that tonight this place will be filthy with vampires.” She bit her lip. “And it turns out, it was true.”

He glanced down once again at the massive cluster below him. “Great,” he droned. “Because that same _source_ tipped off the vampires that _she_ would be here.” He looked pointedly back to Lilah, and she fixed him with a knowing smile.

“Seems she has been pissing off a lot of undead Americans lately.” His stomach churned.

“And you thought I’d enjoy a box seat for her slaughter.” He smiled coldly.

“Well, yeah.” She blinked.

“You really don’t know the first thing about me, do you?”

“Probably not,” she relented in faux solemnity.

He turned away again, but this time she followed like a wolf scenting fear. Right up against his ear, she berated him, the words trying their best to tear through him when all others had failed. “Like will he go straight to his car? Or will he stop to warn her first?”

There was silence as he stared ahead, his hands loose at his sides, as motionless as stone.

She nodded to herself. “He has to think about it.” She smiled. “That’s good.” He glanced back at her with narrowed eyes. “That’s all I really needed to know.”

And then she left him there, and walked back to the railing lit up with a spotlight of blue and red. “You can go,” she dismissed.

His teeth clenched as he turned back to her retreating figure. “A test, Lilah?”

“Oh don’t look so grim,” she grinned. “I just needed to know whether or not I was wasting my time.” Her smile faded, and she strode slowly towards him, step by step, each one accentuated by the motion of her hips. “And to prove we’re still friends, I’ll have her pulled out of there before anything really lethal happens.” She pressed closer, and Wesley turned back toward the first floor again, only this time his gaze stayed there. “That way you don’t have to torture yourself as to whether or not you did the right thing.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” His pointed gaze at the first floor drew Lilah’s attention as well, and the two of them looked over the railing.

The familiar black coat of a vampire who never really knew when to back away from something that didn’t concern him stood out like a sore thumb, even in the throng of innocent bystanders.

…

Shift’s sat cross-legged in her cell with her eyes closed. Meditation had never been her thing, but in her head she could fight off the boredom that came with waiting.

That is, until the memories of Quor’toth resurfaced again.

White knuckled, she tried to will them away. The visceral shards of bugs crawling through her flesh, of her skin sloughing away until she could no longer even feel the pain, it would not leave her. The worst enemy was time. It allowed her to brood whenever her mind had the chance for silence. In place of quiet, there were the worms that burrowed into her ear drums. The maggots that dug fat and haunted her to the precipice of madness. She took in a steep breath as she fought back against. If she tried particularly hard, she could imagine them as the very creature that would pull Connor down into desolation. Jasmine, God of rot and ruin, was already fighting her. And if she framed it like that, then Shift refused to lose.

“So is this some higher demonic power you’re calling to here, or should I be worried?”

Shift’s grip loosened. She forced her shoulders to lose their tension, then rose languidly to face the green demon in his well-tailored pinstripe suit. The visitor was a welcome sight. Anything at this point, was a welcome sight. 

“I’m just trying to pass time,” she assured him. “There’s fuck-all to do in here.”

“Well, you’ve proven to all of us that you could leave whenever you darn well please.” He leaned against the wall across from her with another drink in his hand. She licked her lips as she recalled the taste of alcohol.

“I’m trying to prove to you assholes that I ain’t an eldritch monster bent on ending the world.” She leaned against the bars. “But you already know that.”

“Having a peep in that little noggin of yours doesn’t mean much when it’s as shadowy as the dark side of the moon,” he said, but his face eventually relented. “But I do know how much you care about Connor. And I’m sure Angel will see that too.” He gestured vaguely. “Eventually.”

“Eventually,” she groaned, and pushed her head against the cell bars. After sighing deep, she looked down at her shoes, her eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. “… Eventually might not be enough time,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?” 

“W-well,” she recovered quickly, “you saw Connor, the way that he was. Holtz dug deep, and when a hell dimension itself is twisting you up inside, brainwashing can feel like a complete reprogramming. I’m not sure if Angel can, y’know, get to him.”

Lorne sighed thoughtfully. “Well, the kid is going to have to go through a little adjustment on the other side of the looking glass. But he’ll do fine. A few hours with Angel, and he’ll see the man’s more of a kitten than a tiger – I mean –”

The fire demon shook her head. “Nah. It’s alright. Maybe I’m overthinking things. A few days should be more than enough. Connor just needs some time to get to know him. And some time for Angel to get to know him too. Connor’s smart. He’s not… Not a bad person.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get your wish sooner than you think.” Lorne raised his glass. “Those two crazy kids skedaddled off for Angel’s job. If any of what you say is true, then that young man is about to get the father son bonding time of his life.”

“Wait, really?” The demon immediately brightened. Perhaps luck was turning in her favor. If Connor could finally see sense with Angel, then that bond would only strengthen over time. There was no Holtz to get in the way now, leading to no separation of the few people the kid had left in the world. Maybe this whole thing would work out.

“All this time you’ve spent protecting him, and yet you’re not worried about him going toe-to-toe with vampires?” He raised an eyebrow.

The demon smiled, and fell back against the bars, her arms curving over her legs as she looked to the demon. “Connor doesn’t need protecting,” she smiled softly. “That’s not what my job was.”

…

Touch, everywhere he went, no matter how much he tried to avoid contact. Voices he couldn’t hear properly, so many piled on top of the other. Sounds that destroyed his ear drums in ways that only the screeches of titans had before. And the _smell_. Connor had never experienced anything like it before. It was a mixture between sweat, fermentation, and arousal mixed into a concoction that he could barely understand. Suddenly there were parts of his brain lighting up that never had before.

Shift hadn’t been lying when she said that there were many more people than he could have ever imagined in this world. What he hadn’t realized was that all of them were going to decide to congregate in a single room for the express purpose of making him very uncomfortable.

It was difficult just trying to get through the crowd. A part of Connor found great distaste in allowing the vampire to guide him through the hundreds of humans that coated the room like cockroaches, but the other part of him was just grateful for the familiar face, not to mention a body large enough to provide him some space to slink beside.

“Well.” Angel stopped in the middle of the dance floor to survey the room for any sign of Cordelia’s vision. “You said you wanted to kill a vampire. This might be your chance.” Rifling through his coat, he pulled out one of many extra wooden stakes he kept on his person at all times. “Here, take this.”

The vampire handed it to him like it an extra number two pencil. Connor looked down at it, then back to Angel, waiting for the punchline of some joke. It made no sense to him, surely he wouldn’t just hand his soon-to-be murderer the weapon.

But the vampire was already moving once more through the flow of people like it was nothing, and Connor quickly struggled to keep up, the words of confusion still on his tongue. The vampire spoke over his shoulder and only gave half an eye to his son, the rest on the worrisome amount of people just ripe for attack.

“Just make sure when you use that thing, it goes straight –”

“In the heart,” Connor finished for him. “I know.”

Angel glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“My father taught me.”

“Yeah.” Angel muttered, as though Connor wouldn’t be able to hear him over the cacophony of electronica and laughter. “I’m sure he did.”

The vampire cleared his throat, then continued coasting through the dance floor. His repeated looks back to his son were more to make sure the kid didn’t get lost than it was watching his own back. Connor’s grip tightened on the wooden stake as he struggled to follow.

“Now look,” the vampire continued, “there’s a lot of innocent people in here. Just don’t go nailing anybody until they start showing their game face, okay?”

“Will it look like yours did, in the office before?” Connor asked.

Angel’s mouth tightened. “… Yeah.”

The boy swallowed, and his cold eyes watched the back of the vampire’s neck. The wooden stake was gripped tightly in his hands. Like a predator stalking prey, he kept up with his father, his shoulders hung forward and his attentions on the vampire and the vampire alone. It would be so easy, he surmised. The creature wasn’t even paying attention. One well placed hit in the heart, and he could leave.

But he’d promised.

He’d promised.

Connor’s grip loosened on the wooden stake.

“So why do you do it?” Connor asked.

Angel didn’t respond at first. He was too busy staring at the lone figure at the bar that he thought he’d seen the last of. The woman that had aided in kidnapping his son appearing now before him was far too unlikely to be coincidence.

Justine was a girl that wanted so desperately to be something she wasn’t, and it always ended up in stupid situations like this. She wasn’t a slayer, didn’t even have proper training, and putting herself into situations like these were sure-fire ways to get her killed as quickly as possible. Maybe, after helping out Holtz in her cult-like haze for as long as she had, that was exactly what she wanted. Angel was half tempted to let her have her wish. If she was willing to take his son away from him, who was he to deny her her own deathwish?

Perhaps if he was a worse person, he’d be that person. But he couldn’t. He hated himself for it, but he was no monster. At least, not that kind of monster. And if she had gotten herself into trouble, then he’d do what he damn well had to.

“Do what?” The vampire asked distractedly, his eyes still on the woman. She hadn’t seen him yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“Why kill them, if they’re like you?”

“They’re not like me, Connor,” Angel retorted.

The woman swallowed the rest of her drink, turned, and the vampire’s eyes met with hers. Angel swallowed.

Immediately, she rose from her seat, but the vampire was already on the move again.

“So what if they don’t have a soul?” The boy argued, palming the wooden stake in his hand. “What difference does that make?”

Justine shoved her empty glass to the side of the counter, her eyes on Angel like a rabbit watching a hawk. He had her spooked, which was probably the worst thing he could have done. It was his fault that she was too busy waiting for him to spring on her for her to notice facial changes to the bartender’s face as it morphed into its vampiric form. Angel shifted back and forth on his feet for a split uncomfortable second before leaping into action.

“Just stay right there,” he ordered Connor, then turned back towards the bar. But the crowds had grown even thicker, and pushing between them was like pushing through a raging river.

The bartender grabbed her by the throat as two more monsters appeared. Her well-placed kick sent one of them flying back into Angel, who grabbed the creature and had him staked before he ever knew what hit him.

Connor watched with cold, rapt attention at the spectacle that was his father on the job. The strange woman that pretended to know how to fight was picked up by the bartender with supernatural strength, then thrown right into the shelves of multicolored drinks. She barely covered herself in time with raised hands before she went down behind the counter, covered in glass and ripe for the picking.

Angel was only one man. With one hand holding a wooden stack and the other vampire up, and the other stabbing him through the heart with a couple jabs, there wasn’t enough time for him to rescue her too. And as soon as one was dead, three more appeared. The crowd shrieked and pulled back at what they assumed was a drunken brawl, and Angel ducked and weaved quickly as the vampires sent out jabs meant for his jaw and kicks meant to knock him on his ass. But no matter how many he threw off him to get towards the girl, they kept coming.

There was a cry from behind the counter as the bartender found the girl.

This wasn’t a demonstration anymore.

The Destroyer gripped the stake tight, then sprinted across the dispersed dance floor full force and leapt forward, landing in front of the preoccupied vampire without stopping. The vampire’s mouth gaped.

“Nice! Uh, take the one on the –”

Connor leapt again, this time landing behind the counter beside the woman.

Angel blinked. “Well – yeah, that – that makes the most sense.” A swift punch to the face had him down and fighting again.

The Destroyer pulled the demon off the woman with a strength unparalleled by the vampire, but in his mind he was gaging with growing insecurity the weakness in his muscles. This was made even more known when he threw the monster up into the smashed bottles. The strength he’d had in Quor’toth was but a shadow its former self. Even this demon that struggled faintly against the remaining glass bottles had enough strength to push back against him. The brutal grip that had broken through rock and ripped through flesh and bone was now having difficulty keeping this stupid creature from biting at him.

He didn’t like it.

The vampiric dust exploding in his face was a new feeling too, and not a pleasant one. There was nothing for him to take from, no trophy to be had. He would have liked a fang. But at least there was a person made safe.

…

“Who’s the boy wonder?” Lilah asked from her second floor perch against the railing. Her eyebrows furrowed, while Wesley looked on in silence. “He moves just like…”

“His father,” he finished for her.

She turned to stare at the Englishman. As the pieces clicked into place, a host of ideas surfaced in her mind. Her mouth slowly upturned into a devilish little smile.

…

Arms gripped the woman’s hand tightly as the Destroyer helped her up, then pulled her out from behind the counter and back toward the wall of humans looking on in terror. Eyes dug into the back of his neck as he led her toward the safety in numbers. He couldn’t understand why she stared at him, but he found himself matching her gaze when she stopped him short. She was searching for something in him. The discomfort of the gaze made his skin itch, and it was made worse when it seemed she had found what she was looking for.

Justine recognized the stark blue eyes. The chiseled, broad face. The resemblance in the shoulders of the vampire that was watching them now. There were words on the tip of her tongue, words that she wanted to say but couldn’t. Questions. Desperate, burning ones that she needed to know, and now never would as Angel tore his son away from her. 

“Go,” he yelled at her. “Get out of here! Go!” It took the woman precious moments just to connect the dots, and then she was tearing away through the crowd and as far away from the action as she could.

There wasn’t time for Connor to figure things out when there was a fight to be had, and Connor’s heavy fists collided with each vampire that appeared out of nowhere to swarm the two of them. His jaw clenched in a snarl, he attacked with a raging ferocity that took the vampires by surprise. The aggression behind each hit was severe, but his attacks allowed for many hits in, almost as thought he was looking for the vampires to break through his defense and bite him. Allowing one of the monsters to get in close, he used that proximity to turn the creature’s arm around and break it with a quick snap of his muscles. It screamed out in agony, then snarled and rushed forward with his teeth outstretched. Connor sent him flying off with a kick and a snarl back of his own. As the last one fell back and gave the Destroyer a chance to regroup, he found himself with his back up against the vampire, wild eyes glancing to the man. Angel turned back to him, and in a split second the two of them locked eyes with an understanding that didn’t require words. At least a dozen. Six for each of them. If they watched each other’s back, they could take them.

The Destroyer was as vicious as a vampire. The brutality of the Destroyer’s attacks were met with a far cleaner and balanced style of the Angel’s own, mirrored like night and day. The vampire found himself grimacing at how close Connor got to the mouths of some of them, and how close he got to getting ganged up on. But the Destroyer didn’t seem to care, not when he was busy under the red mist of rage. He threw off every one of them that got in close until they were afraid to come near in case the weakness was really a feint.

The look in his eyes rivalled the very faces of the beasts they were fighting, and when he rushed forward with the wooden stake in hand to dust the next one that dared get close enough, he did so with his teeth barred and a growl at the edge of his lips. It left him completely uncovered as another went for his back, and Angel swooped in to grab it by the scruff and throw it back towards the bar.

…

Lilah’s grin widened. “Now tell me you aren’t interested,” she purred to Wesley. But when she turned to him, the Englishman was already gone.

…

“Who taught you how to fight?” Connor’s father exclaimed. He had to wrench one of the vamps off of his own son just to keep him from getting bitten. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Connor retorted just as he managed to stab another through the heart.

“Well, I am if you’ve got a death wish!” Angel shouted right back. Another one of the vampires jumped him from behind, but his instincts were strong enough to catch it with another stab through the heart. He rushed forward back to where his son was taking on two of them. The kid took the punch to the face rather than dodge it, and didn’t even flinch as he returned it with an even stronger punch of his own.

The last vampire left quickly tore through the crowd before either of them could land the finishing blow, and Connor didn’t hesitate to sprint after him. The red haze of the fight was shadowing his vision, and the blood pumping in his ears was practically goading him on.

The sound of heavy shoes padding on ceramic tile was easy enough to follow. The hallway was short and ended in an inconspicuous door with an exit sign in bold red lettering, which the Destroyer pushed quietly through with the wooden stake still in hand. The boy’s eyes narrowed as he turned quickly from side to side to gauge his new surroundings. An alleyway, with a smell that masked the monster’s scent of death. He kept the hand with the wooden stake up, and his guard sharp. In either direction, there was no sign of the undead figure, but that meant nothing to Connor. There was no way he could have gone far.

But it was silent here. Cars moved back and forth in the distance, but compared to the beat of the music it was practically nothing.

He moved further, slowly, carefully, stalking his prey. His nostrils flared. Still nothing. Nothing, except…

He turned to stab sharply behind him, and Angel gripped the arm aimed right for his heart right in his own grasp. It shook from the strain. Connor’s teeth were gritted, his body huffing faintly from adrenaline. For a second, he’d been so close. He’d nearly done it. It’d nearly been over.

The vampire pushed the stake away from his heart slowly, carefully. But then his eyes flicked away from Connor’s, and a sudden punch from the vamp sent the boy’s arm in the opposite direction into the heart of the last monster that had been stalking Connor from behind.

The creature vanished in a puff of and ash.

His son looked down at it. Silence filled the alley.

Saved. Just like that. Just like it was nothing.

Just like he had so many times back in that club.

The Destroyer turned silently back to his father without looking him in the eye.

“They don’t need to breathe or make any sound,” Angel said softly. “You gotta be careful.”

His son awkwardly looked down at the stone.

“You know, you were uh… You were good, in there,” the vampire continued. “I mean, normally I’d take you to a ball game or a museum or… or something,” he sighed. “I just – it’s good to know that you can handle yourself in a fight. … Even if you’re practically inviting them to bite you.”

Connor swallowed.

Angel awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he regarded the quiet boy in his palpable guilty silence. His son, who looked so much like him. His son who’d fought with him, and had given those vamps a damn good run for his money. The vampire quietly watched his son, then lunged forward in a little mock attack. Connor jumped back a little with his arms raised. As soon as he realized what the vampire was doing, he couldn’t help but grin a little.

Angel pulled back. “… It’s good to know you can do that too,” he said.

The cogs in the Destroyer’s mind turned slowly, ever so slowly. But, eventually, like molasses, the corners of the boy’s mouth drew upwards into another small smile, and then he jabbed out with a hit of his own.

The vampire jumped back with a chuckle of surprise. His son sent out another couple playful jabs, and he caught them as he hopped forward. The kid jumped back a little, laughing himself too as the two of them tried to grab at each other. The kid jumped with ease to the top of a dumpster as his father tried to grab his arm, then grinned down at the man below as he hopped back down to hit him with a light right hook that made no mark.

“See, now you’re doing it,” the vampire goaded him playfully. “Where was this technique back there?”

“I don’t need it,” the boy said. He quickly ducked one of the vampire’s light kicks, then jumped back a couple feet. “I learned from the best.” 

“The best, huh?” The vampire grinned. “Sounds like you need a few more pointers.” 

…

Shift stared into space while the green demon sat against the bars beside her. Two empty drinks stood in front of them, one a tumbler with only melting ice remaining, the other an empty bottle of tequila lying on its side, dry as a bone. She poked at the bottle through the bars with a wistful sigh.

“Three kids.” Lorne said. He grabbed his empty drink to roll the ice cubes around for comfort.

“Yep,” she sighed.

“And you knew him… How many years again?”

“Maybe eight, nine. I don’t really count. And then these.” She closed her eyes. 

“Well… You’re in quite the pickle,” he eventually said.

“I’ll fuckin’ cheers to that.” The fire demon let out a long, low breath. “Just… Maybe don’t tell Angel.”

“I don’t like to keep things from the big man upstairs,” he warned her, “but I’ll keep it between us.” He went quiet for a moment. “Though if I know Angel,” he continued, “then I know it’s no good to keep things like this from him. It’s only going to come to bit ya later. So, maybe not now, but…”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I know.” 

“You’ll need to tell him about the kids,” Lorne said. “ _And_ about everything else.”


	8. Unbinding

The laughter slowly ebbed away into silence as side by side they walked back along the slick, lit-up streets of Los Angeles back to Angel’s car. Connor kept his gaze down on the cement. Angel wouldn’t stop talking. The vampire didn’t notice the way his son had slowly receded back inside himself. The pride in the vampire’s grandiose compliments didn’t warrant much more than faint smiles or responses from his son. At least this time the quiet was more out of sheepishness than hatred.

The Destroyer shouldn’t have felt guilty for wanting to murder a monster. But he did. And it wasn’t going away. No matter how he tried to convince himself, this wasn’t reconnaissance, or training. Every step he took listening to this vampire was another grave sin. A stain on his father’s legacy.

But he couldn’t walk away from the man who had saved his life, and saved the life of another. And he couldn’t just walk away from the father that had abandoned him without ever knowing why.

His words were honey. And Connor wanted to listen so badly.

More than a few times the vampire’s arm would twitch in the reflexive gesture of wanting to bring it across his son’s shoulders and pull him close, but he’d always stop himself. And then he’d pivot to some kind of landmark – this one was a great spot for hunting, he’d tell the kid with a little bump to his shoulder – and he’d continue talking like nothing. He was trying too hard not to upset him. Walking on eggshells, and Connor was smart enough to notice.

The Destroyer fell behind in the conversation as he sat down back in the passenger seat of the car he was still a little afraid of.

This would have been so much easier if he could have just run away.

He wasn’t sure how he ended up with a burrito in his hand. The neon sign behind him reflected against the puddles on the side of the road advertising words he barely understood – Holtz had never spent much time teaching him how to read, but the logo beside it showed a cartoonish version of the food. He looked down at the thing that smelled just as delicious as the pizza like it might bite him at any second. Several cars honked and drove past him only a few feet away. Beyond him, the glittering city of Los Angeles was sprawled out like a beacon against the cloudy night sky. The city was surreal at night.

“Gunn said these were the best burritos in this part of the city,” the vampire said breathlessly as he returned from the inside of the shop with far too many napkins in hand. “What do you think?”

The Destroyer took a reluctant bite, swallowed, then took several more massive bites without bothering to swallow.

“Woah, slow down there, buddy,” the vampire chuckled. “It’s not going anywhere.”

Connor glanced at him, then took a few slower bites that didn’t last long. The one thing that he didn’t miss from Quor’toth was the food. It would never compare to chipotle drizzle.

When they got back in the car, Connor’s hands were still stained with the sauce. He licked at it while pointedly ignoring the napkins the vampire had left for him on the dashboard. As Angel swerved back into traffic, Connor looked back at the man’s face illuminated by multicolored hues.

This man had murdered his father’s entire family.

This man had left him alone.

His father, his _real_ father had told him so many stories, so many that he kept as close to his chest as he could. They’d coalesced into the one thing that made sense anymore. And yet, here he was. Doing nothing.

Connor flinched when a car honked its horn loudly in front of their vehicle. Angel gently gripped the boy’s shoulder, but let go when his son reacted by flinching away. The vampire sighed, then turned his attention back to the road.

“You alright?” The vampire asked. There it was. That kindness, twisted like a weapon when he used it. And Connor fell for it, like the weakling he was.

“I’m fine,” he retorted.

“Alright,” Angel said shortly back. “… You know, Connor, it’s okay to not be used to the city. No one’s asking to you to understand everything right away. If you need time, you got it. Whatever you need.”

Connor looked down at his hands and felt himself deflate.

“… Thanks,” he muttered.

Holtz had always called him weak. Maybe he’d never said the words, but Connor knew what he meant. And he hated it. He had to be more. Angel had to die. So why was he trying to think of anything else? What good did it do? Why was he letting this monster have even a chance to change his mind? Just what was so good about Angel, anyway?

Connor stared at the man as the car ride turned to awkward silence, and truly examined him for the first time. Even Connor could see the resemblance in their faces. The shoulders. The way the man talked. He wished he could cut out the parts of himself that made him like that vampire, but at the same time he couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of sick pride. He _looked_ like his father. Just like him.

It was almost as though he was supposed to be here.

His heart tightened, and he forced himself to stop thinking about it.

…

The Hyperion Hotel was a welcome sight after that outing. Silent, big, and memorable. Connor’s steps quickened toward the entrance and Angel was close behind him. 

“So I’ve been thinking,” Angel continued as he held the hotel door open for his son. “Maybe I’ve been a little too hard on your – uh – girlfriend.” 

The Destroyer pivoted on his heels.

The solemn vampire closed the door behind him, and he leaned against it. “It’s been eighteen years, and you trust her,” he said with all the reluctance of molasses. “I won’t pretend I understand why she’s here, or that I trust anything about her, but…” His jaw tightened.

“Are you going to let her out?”

“ _If_ she can behave.” The vampire’s eyes were steel. “This doesn’t mean she has free reign to do whatever she wants. But even if I don’t believe her… I trust you, Connor.”

The Destroyer awkwardly stood back on his heels and pushed his hands into his pockets.

“I can’t pretend you’re not old enough to make your own decisions,” the vampire continued. “I mean, 18 years in Quor’toth, I, I can’t even imagine what that was like.” The man strode forward and, with the slightest of pauses, finally placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. The Destroyer looked down at it, then back up to him with a growing stone in his stomach. “But it means you’re a fighter. After what I saw back there, I feel like I haven’t been giving you enough credit. You’re a smart kid. And strong... And I’m sorry. For what it’s worth.”

Connor swallowed, then awkwardly shuffled on his feet. “I… Thanks,” he said. “For that. And for bringing me out tonight.”

“Maybe we can do something like that again?” The vampire cautiously probed.

“… Yeah,” Connor eventually breathed. “Sure.”

“You’re back?” Cordelia poked her head out from her office with a smile as wide as a mile. “You’re back!” Her heels clicked against the floor of the lobby sharply as she rushed over to the two of them. “I knew you would be.”

“Cordy!” Angel immediately brightened as he went to meet her. “You should have seen it, it was amazing. Connor, he –” The vampire looked back to his son, but the boy was already disappearing down the stairs. The smile on his face dropped immediately. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“Never mind him,” Cordelia beamed. Her hands wrapped around his sleave as she pulled his attention back to her. “He’ll be fine, Angel. Talk to me. I want to hear everything.”

…

Quiet strides led Connor down the stairs and into the dank depths of the cell that held the fire demon, but she was not as he left her.

Framed by ragged black hair and with one hand lazily resting across her chest, an empty bottle of vodka was clutched in her grasp as she stared up at the veiling. The buzz of drink had left just as quickly as it had come, and one piddly bottle of the good shit just made her quiet and reminiscent. The very last place she wanted to be was here, in her head. But here she was, trying to recall what she’d last told her daughter. She couldn’t remember. She could only hope that it had been something nice.

Connor’s rush toward the cell door faltered.

“Shift?” He pushed his face up between the bars. She lolled her head over to him, then smiled, and raised the bottle.

“Hey, joker. How did the fight go? You kick ass?”

“I killed a bunch of vampires.” His chest puffed out. “They were nothing.”

She drew back up to her unsteady feet. “’Course they were. You’re the strongest fighter I know. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Connor shrugged and tried not to let the praise get to head. “Well, they put up a good fight. And Angel was strong, too.”

“Was he now?” She drawled.

“And my strength was lacking.” the Destroyer added. “I thought for sure I could’ve destroyed that building with the wrong punch, but…” His pumped his arm to experiment but couldn’t quite parse what he had felt before.

Her eyes followed the arm. “Maybe it’s Quor’toth.” The demon chewed on her lip, shark teeth poking out from her lips. “I mean it changed me, right?”

Connor frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“Fuckin’ sucks, don’t it? You were one of the strongest players on the battlefield, and as soon as you’re fighting on the home field, you’re just another soldier. In a stupid fuckin’ war.” She looked down at her empty drink, then sighed under her breath. “Y’know, I should have told the green goblin no. What I wouldn’t give for an entire liquor store to take the real edge off.”

“Angel said you can go now,” Connor offered. His fingers brushed up against the bars, and she caught them with her own automatically. “We fought together, he and I. And now he says doesn’t trust you, but he trusts me. We can leave whenever we want.”

“Really?” The demon’s funk broke as she broke out in a wide, toothy grin. “Connor, that’s great!”

Connor couldn’t meet her drunken enthusiasm.

The fire demon faltered. “Don’t tell me… After all this, you still want to kill him?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” he tried to argue. “That’s not why I’m doing this, and you know that. I have to finish what my father left behind, for him. And then we can do whatever we want.”

“Angel didn’t kill your father, Connor.” Shift met his desperate gaze with piercing red eyes. “I did.”

Connor drew his hand away from the bars, turned around, and sat down with his back pressed against the cool steel. The demon followed, her hands drawing out between the bars to curl her fingers around the hem of his green shirt. He could feel the warmth of her breath against the back of his neck. If he listened very closely, he could hear her heartbeat too.

“You killed him when he wasn’t thinking straight,” he said eventually. “He was wrong. But that doesn’t mean that what that vampire did was right, either. I have to do this.” He dropped his head into his hands, and the fingernails dug into his scalp. “I _have_ to do this.” 

“It’s your decision, joker,” she said softly. “All I ask is that you think long and hard about what happened tonight.” She gently tugged his shirt. “Think about what _you_ want to do.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” he muttered. “I want this to just be over already so we can do what we want.”

She closed her eyes. “Connor, what if what you want is to let him live?”

Connor went silent. The hanging question would go unanswered until the end of the fucking universe, she knew. And there was nothing that Shift could do about it. Connor didn’t need a gotcha moment. He needed a hug. And something to do.

“Fine.” The demon stretched upwards, then gripped the sides of the cell door. “Let’s not talk about this, then. Let’s just do what we want just for tonight and fucking run away into the ether together. Night’s still good, right? How about a night on the town?”

He jumped up with her and brimmed with excitement. “Really? Run away?”

“Just for tonight,” she reminded him. “But for now, let’s forget. Get drunk, go dancing maybe, have a fucking ball.”

He made a face. “No bars. Too many people.”

“Then there’s bound to be a park or two we can hide out in,” she suggested. “Maybe we can catch the scent of more vamps on the wind.” Her eyes gleamed, and she barred her teeth in a sickening grin. “It’s been too long since I’ve hunted. I want to kill something.”

A shiver somewhere between fear and interest went up Connor’s spine.

“Then let’s go kill something,” he grinned.

…

“The kid was born for it. The way he anticipated – I’m telling ya, it’s in his blood.”

“Ya don’t say?” Cordelia’s grin was as wide as a mile as she stretched out over one of the lobby chairs. Angel was too excited to speak with just his words, so his hands moved wildly as he tried to paint the picture of the dance floor they’d left behind. His eyes sparkled with the memories that were still so fresh in his mind.

“There we were and it was like we had never been apart.” The vampire shook his head. “He felt it too, I know he did. You…” He cracked a smile. “You should have seen us together.”

Cordelia’s grin softened. “I did.”

“What do you mean, you did?”

The woman pushed herself up in her seat as she struggled for the words. “After… You left, I went back into my vision.”

Angel drew forward with immediate apprehension. “You went back in?”

“Don’t ask me how, I don’t know if it’s a part of my new…” She furrowed her eyebrows in thought. “Semi-demonness? Or-or if they just let me go back in? But…” She smiled softly at him. “I was there. I saw the whole thing, you and your son together. It was beautiful.”

“Yeah,” the vampire said softly. “Yeah, it… It was.” The vampire smiled back at the woman, then dropped his gaze back down to the floor, lost in thought. Cordelia’s powers were stronger – and changing more quickly – than ever before. It was almost too fast.

But they were bestowed upon her by the Powers for a reason. So many times, he’d seen her keel over in pain just for her job, but now… Now she seemed radiant. Flourishing. Questioning that was just a fly in the ointment, and he wasn’t going to ruin a perfect night.

“Soooo…” He coughed. “It’s awfully quiet here tonight.”

“Oh!” Cordelia sat up sharply. “Gunn and Fred are having a little them time since it’s been such a slow night, and last I saw Lorne he was complaining up a storm about the demon you had locked down there.” At the vampire’s bristling, she rolled her eyes. “Hey, she didn’t do anything, but apparently she drinks like a fish, and he wasted a good bottle of tequila.” Cordelia smiled wryly. “Looks like you got the night to yourself.”

“And you?” Angel raised an eyebrow. “Any plans with Groo?”

“Groo?” Cordelia stared at the vampire in true confusion. It took her a few seconds to even realize what he referring to, it was so far out of her mind. “Oh. I… I guess he would have went back home. I’ve been here for a while. I don’t even want to know what time it is right now.” 

“Well, it’s not like there’s anything keeping you.”

“Well, you were keeping me, you sad sack of dad goo.” She smiled. “I couldn’t leave you here to an abandoned outpost, could I? Someone’s got to keep the coffee warm, and check up on you after your first outing with your son. I’m glad it went well.”

The vampire smiled faintly. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Nothing since the pizza. Why, you buying?”

“Sure.” He jerked his head toward the door. “My treat tonight.”

“How gracious,” she teased. “I better take advantage of this good mood before it’s gone. But – are you sure about leaving Connor alone with that girl?”

Angel’s shoulders tensed, and he forced them to relax. Just thinking about it was enough to put him on edge.

“I told him I trusted him,” he seethed. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

Cordelia gently squeezed his shoulder as she rose from the lobby seat. “Aw, big guy. I’m sure that Connor really appreciates that.”

“I should give him a curfew,” Angel turned to the stairs.

The woman let out a chuckle. “It’s already pretty late, do you really think it would make much of a difference?”

Angel sighed.

“Then come on,” she crooked her head toward the door. “Thinking about it just going to make you mope around all day. Going out for a night without worrying would do you some good.”

…

Ascending the stairs to an empty room was a lot less grandiose than Shift had been expecting.

“Where’s the vamp?” The Destroyer skulked through the lobby with a wandering eye into each of the office. The scent was still fresh, maybe fifteen minutes old. “Or anybody, for that matter?”

“I think they all left,” he said. He stood up straight and turned back to grin at her. “We’re alone.”

Shift leapt forward without warning. The Destroyer hit the ground hard enough to crack the tile with the force of the tackle, but his hands wrapped around her sides and pulled her tight all the same. After all, the kiss was sweeter than donuts, and when he felt the teeth behind those soft lips, he refused to let her pull away until he was finally satisfied.

“Alone, huh?” She purred right up against his panting mouth.

His grip on her sides tightened. “Can we go to the condom store now?”

“We can do whatever the hell we want.” She pressed her forehead against his. “The night is ours, joker. Freedom, Hallelujah.”

Connor’s eyelids grew heavy as he drew closer to her mouth again. “I think I like freedom,” he murmured.

“Um, excuse me?” 

The two of them separated like an electric shock. The horned green demon standing at the top of the stairs leaned against the railing as affronted as a middle-aged housewife. The fresh drink dangled from his hand like an ornament.

“Oh, hey Lorne,” Shift laughed nervously. “You’re – uh – staying home tonight? Cool, cool.”

“You’re lucky that Angel didn’t catch the two of you canoodling like spring bunnies.” The demon shook his head wryly. “You two lovebirds better fly the coop before he comes back. And be safe. Both of you.” Fixing the fire demon with a pointed look, he took a sip of his drink. “I mean that. Safety. It’s important.”

“Safety,” she repeated with a sheepish grin. “Gotcha. Just pretend you saw nothing and we’ll be right along our way – Come on joker let’s get the fuck out of here go go go – ”

Connor swallowed as he turned around and rushed the door with her close behind. Shift winked at Lorne just before she disappeared, and the Pylean shook his head with a smile.

“Youth,” he muttered.

…

Blood pumped through the fire demon’s veins until she could hear the roar in her ears. Connor was just ahead of her, half walking and half running, and doing his best to ignore the passing cars that still made his muscles tense. The same energy that pushed her forward was infecting him too. The instinct to fight and hunt was still there in this world, but it had warped into something with an entirely different goal. Doing things for fun was a foreign concept to the Destroyer, but one he was already starting to love.

She had to stop them not long after they’d left the hotel. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and thrusting him up against the brick wall of a nearby alley, her lips found his again, and he kissed her back with all the ferocity of a predator unleashed. With his hands gripping her waist and his expression dripping of pure want, the two of them stood there panting, hidden behind dumpsters and the shadows of old buildings.

“What do you want to do first?” She asked him. “Hunt, or something else?”

“Everything,” he breathed. He leaned in to catch her lips again, but then his breath caught.

A scent on the wind was what alerted him. It was so inconspicuous, and yet alarming enough to turn from the girl that had him pinned against the alley. His grip on her shoulders clenched in a vice as he looked past her shoulder. Immediately, the colorful flush left his cheeks. His body went as rigid as stone.

The cocking back of a crossbow cracked the silence, and Shift slowly turned to see its owner.

Justine’s arm was unwavering with the wooden crossbow bolt aimed directly at the fire demon’s heart. But her eyes were desperate. She took in several sharp breaths as she struggled to form words. The speech she’d prepared sat on dying lips in the light of the girl she couldn’t believe was alive.

“I knew it was you when I saw you,” she gasped in short, uncertain breaths at the boy still pinned against the alley. “I couldn’t be sure at first, but it had to be. With you, and Angel. And now her.”

Connor slowly peeled away from the fire demon without looking away from the crossbow or the woman holding it. The crossbow remained trained on Shift, only one step away from shooting. Justine’s finger was trembling on the trigger.

“Two weeks of nothing,” she said shakily. “I thought you were all dead. And suddenly – suddenly this.”

Shift’s mouth sealed shut as she froze in place. Connor silently inched himself closer to the side and demon gave him a meaningful look. He couldn’t be this dumb, she silently begged. He had to know how serious this was. Not for Shift, but for this woman. Or anyone else for that matter. One wrong move, and that bolt was going through her heart. One wrong move, and this whole alley erupted into fire.

“And I thought…” Justine grimaced. “I thought that, if you two were back, he had to be too. He _had_ to be back, y’know? He doesn’t just die like that. He can’t just… Just disappear and leave me like that. So I searched everywhere.” She let out a quick, harsh laugh. “And you know what I found?”

Shift inched away from the crossbow’s aim, and Justine immediately retrained it on her with wild eyes. “Nothing,” she whimpered. “Not a trace of ‘im. Like he was never here.”

The demon could smell the despair from a mile away. She sighed quietly.

“Holtz is dead,” murmured Shift.

“No!” The woman raised the crossbow bolt higher. “He… He can’t be. Not after all this time. Not after you, and…”

She looked to the Destroyer who now stood right beside her with his hands gently reaching out to lower her weapon. His eyes met hers, the same ones she’d seen in the bar, and for a second she did falter. But then she flinched back, shaking her head and keeping track of him like she was a hunted animal.

“Who are you?” Connor asked. “Why do you keep showing up and following me?”

“What? What do you mean?” Justine’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Didn’t he ever talk about me?”

Hopelessly lost, the boy just stared at her. “No.”

Justine’s voice dropped low with resigned despair. “I guess not,” she whispered. “You’re the vampire’s son. Was it you, then? Did you kill him?”

“No!” Connor rushed forward with blazing eyes. The sheer audacity of the accusation was enough to make his fingernails dig into his palm. “I would never – my father did EVERYTHING for me.”

“I killed him.”

Justine’s slowly turned her wild gaze back to the demon. She barely had the energy to raise the crossbow again. Her voice cracked as she tried to speak.

“Why?”

“He was a monster, and he deserved to die.” Shift’s gaze hardened. “He used Connor like a weapon. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“You don’t know who you’re talking about,” Justine choked. “You’re the monster, killing a man like that. I should kill you. Right here. Maybe I will.”

There was a blur in front of the demon as Connor jumped the woman. The crossbow bolt that had been loaded went wild and flew into the mortar of a building, the weapon itself thrown forward and sliding to land at Shift’s feet. Justine met the attack with a block and kick, but before it had already begun the match had been decided. She could barely hold herself together, and Connor had her pinned against the ground moments later. Yet still she struggled, gasping and sobbing, with no where else to go.

“How could you?!” She cried out desperately as her fingernails scrapped against the ground. “Steven, he loved you, do you understand me? He _loved_ you. From the moment he had you. I was there. I s _aw._ ”

“I know!” Connor yelled back at her. He could barely hear her anymore. As a matter of fact, he could barely hear anything. The roaring in his ears were clutching at him and pulling him down like dead weight into an ocean. That stone in his stomach was growing until it filled his throat too.

“Then how can you listen to what that thing says?” She whimpered. “She’s a _demon,_ Steven. And she _killed_ him.”

“You don’t understand,” he cracked. He hadn’t realized that the tears had begun to fall until he could barely see through them, and then his shoulders were shaking as he bit back harsh sobs. “And my father couldn’t either. But I won’t let his memory end. I’ll take care of Angel. I promised him.”

“He won’t even be alive to see it because of you,” she gasped. “You’re lying with the beast. Holtz _raised_ you. He sacrificed everything! Is this really how you’re going repay him? Is this what you want?”

“What I want doesn’t matter anymore!” Connor screamed at her through the tears and the tremors. He couldn’t even meet her eyes. “And I know that,” he whimpered. “I know.”

She turned away from him hopelessly. “Then you let this happen. You don’t deserve him. You’re Angel’s son. Not Daniel’s.”

“No,” Connor managed to croak. “My father loved me. And I loved him. I could never hurt him. I…”

Justine gritted her teeth. “He died because he trusted you, Steven. You might as well have killed him.”

Shift picked up the crossbow, then walked forward with silent steps, and chucked the weapon down beside the woman. Cold red eyes flicked over the two of them.

“I took the hit for what I did,” Shift hissed. “Holtz stole a baby, and I’m sure you helped him, yet you sweep it under the rug. You ruined Connor’s only chance at a normal life. In a way, you killed Holtz by participating in all this bullshit. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

“Daniel believed in his innocence,” Justine snapped back at her. “He wouldn’t leave a child to die in the clutches of a monster. Sooner or later, Angel would have snapped. He was trying to protect him.”

The young man pulled away, and she stumbled back to her unsteady feet, grabbing the crossbow as she did. Sitting on the dirty cement alley, Connor couldn’t control the shaking in his own hands anymore, or the unsteady breaths that came with his heart racing. He could have saved his father. He could have done as his father asked. Holtz could still be alive today. Connor could have tried to save the man that had loved enough to save him despite what he was, but he hadn’t. And it was all his fault.

He could feel his mind snapping in two.

“Yeah,” Shift growled. “Protect him so that he could use him to get close to that damned vamp.” A tender hand gripped the Destroyer’s shoulder, but he was stone, staring down at the ground with the silent tears still rolling down. Alarmed, the fire demon tried to keep as straight as face as she could.

“I can’t believe you let her touch your mind like that,” Justine spat.

“You’re one to talk,” Shift retorted.

The woman gritted her teeth, then turned away. “You’re too far in, “Connor”. I hope you enjoy living with the consequences.”

Then she ran. Shift watched her sprint out of the alley and duck a left in the opposite direction to the hotel. Her eyes narrowed, but her gaze didn’t last long. The sound of quiet sobs quickly brought her back to reality, and the demon knelt down beside the Destroyer to pull him into her arms. Her heart tightened when he pushed her away.

She quietly stood back. “Sorry,” she murmured.

He shook his head. Wiping the tears away just made it worse. He hated crying. And he hated her eyes on him. Weak. He was always so weak. And useless. Just like he had been for his father. And just like he had been tonight.

Connor stood up, walked to the building with the crossbow bolt still sticking out of it, and punched it. Hard. And then he punched again. And again. Until there was nothing left but pain and suffering that was simple enough for him to understand. Until there was nothing left in his mind but singular logic that still made fucking sense to him. And somewhere along the line, he stopped crying, and started roaring. The violence and toxicity of Quor’toth bubbled just beneath the surface. Guilt. Anger. Hatred. At whom, he didn’t know anymore. Everyone. No one. Angel. Holtz. Shift. Himself. His own mind was just as broken as everything else around him. His knuckles reddened and bruised, but they never scraped. Never bled. And never broke.

But his heart sure did.

“Connor.”

He punched harder.

“Connor,” Shift said softly.

“My name’s not Connor.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Connor heaved as he finally gave up and leaned against the mutilated brick wall. The stinging pain in his knuckles was the only thing keeping him there. Hollow, hopeless eyes looked up to the demon from his hunched over form.

“But it is,” he panted.

The demon gaped at him and took a step forward out of sheer incredulity. “Connor, think about this for just a second, okay? You were a _baby_ , a fucking child, and they brought you into that world without a say.”

Connor wiped his mouth.

Wisps of smoke trailed from the fire demon’s eyes as she stared at him. “Connor. When I killed him, did _I_ give you a choice?”

Connor looked away.

“I didn’t. And I shouldn’t have done that. But don’t – don’t pretend that you suddenly had all the agency in the world to prevent that. You never did. And it’s not your fault. It’s mine for taking the choice away from you.”

“We never should have come here,” he said, in a voice as painful and hollow as Shift was afraid it would be. “I should… I should never have met that vampire.” Connor shook his head as he rubbed over his knuckles. He’d regret it in the morning. “If I knew who he really was, I would have stayed there. We could have just stayed there, and been happy. We wouldn’t have to think about all these stupid complicated decisions.”

“Connor,” she murmured.

He dropped his head.

“He’s not evil, Shift.” Connor’s voice cracked. “He’s a good person. And I have to kill him.” 

“Connor, you don’t have to do anything.”

“But I do,” he laughed grimly. “Don’t you get it? I _have_ to. It’s the only thing left I can do for my father. After all I did to him, how can I live with myself while Angel’s still out there, alive?”

Shift reached forward to grab his reddened knuckles, then pulled him forward still until the two of them were eye to eye. That gaze that had been watching him from afar all his life was as intense as ever up close. He couldn’t look away if he tried.

“Look at me,” she said. “If Holtz truly loved you, then wouldn’t being happy be something he would have wanted for you?”

“It’s not the same,” he tried to argue.

“Connor, it’s never the same.” She pressed her forehead against his. The warmth of him was all it took to soothe her nerves. She could only hope it did something for him. “This world is fucking complicated and believe me, I hate it too. But just doing what people want you to do is never going to make you happy. It’s only going to make you sick to your stomach. If you want to kill Angel, I’ll be here with you. But do what you do because _you_ decide. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “Not even me.”

For a long time, the Destroyer was silent. When he spoke, his words little more than breaths.

“I can’t abandon him.”

“You’re not.”

“If I don’t do it, then he never gets avenged.”

“You avenged him when you punished me.” She took his hand and placed it over her chest. He could hear her heartbeat. It raced, just like his. One of the most soothing things in the world. “Do it again, if you want. If it doesn’t break you as much as this does. But I can’t… I can’t see you breaking you down like this anymore. He can’t make you into this when he’s already dead. It isn’t fair.”

Connor clenched his hand into a fist. “Life’s not fair. It shouldn’t be a decision.”

“But it is. And you get to make it.” She took his jaw in her hands, then hugged him tight. Slowly, his arms found her too, and the two clung to each other like life rafts.

“What if I can’t decide?”

“Then take all the time in the world to figure yourself out. It doesn’t have to be three days. It could be a decade. It could be never. But it’s your choice.”

He buried his face into her shoulder, and the two of them were quiet for what felt like eons. The only thing he heard, the only thing he cared about, was the heartbeat that matched his. Then he licked his cracked lips. The stone in his stomach had reached every limb. He was lead in her grasp. The weight of a secret was unbearable. He couldn’t hold it anymore. In the end, Connor was weak.

So predictable, his father would say. And so very _Connor_.

“I don’t...” He closed his eyes. "I don't want to lose another dad."


	9. Last Call

Alcohol could wait. It was hard to enjoy the night to the fullest with a bitter taste left in your mouth. Shift, because she was kicking herself for not knowing that Holtz still had connections to this world, and Connor, because well, because of a lot of things.

Not even Shift knew the extent of damage inside Connor’s mind. Quor’toth had broken him in ways that could easily tear a human apart. Shift could shrug off that evil, but he wasn’t so lucky. He could spend years in the demon’s arms, and never quite feel like himself.

Curled up together in under a tree surrounded by the most foliage they could find in a city park, Shift let the kid hold her as tight as a vice. The two of them were the only ones in the world that could understand what had happened in Quor’toth. It had also been home, to both of them. And it had been _his._ It had been simple there. If things went wrong, he could run away. And then, when he was ready, he could come back and face the problem head on. It had been good.

Admitting there was something wrong with Quor’toth was hard, but admitting that his life hadn’t been fair was a near impossible task. There was no bad guy. There was no one to hate. No one to take the blame for years of imprisonment. No one to direct these misplaced insecurities.

So, who was responsible? And why did that question feel so hollow?

The trees were out of focus in his dizzying mind, as were the flickering overhead lights that marked the pathway through the tiny park. The answers wouldn’t come, but at least there was no time limit anymore. He couldn’t believe how much that had been like a yoke off his shoulders. Angel didn’t have to die right now, Connor could just wait as long as he needed to. And no one would judge him for it.

Except for his father, who looked down from heaven at the traitor he had for a son.

Connor sun his face deeper into Shift’s shoulder and tried not to think too hard about that.

While Connor hid himself away in introspection, Shift breathed in the scent of Earth like it was the drug she’d been on withdrawals of for years. Bright lights. The sound of cars. Of music. Of bottles and pill popping and credit card swiping and sex and drugs and rock and roll. Humanity was back, just like she’d never left it, and it breathed the same air that she did.

She wanted to go out and grasp it with both hands and down it until that itch in the back of her throat was finally quenched. This was supposed to her time, the part of the story where she finally got to enjoy the reward for the punishment. There were countless drunken fools off their asses out there, high off of something and unable to feel their faces, much less their necks when she tore their throats out. It would have been so easy.

She wanted flesh. She wanted food. She was hungry like nothing else. Hungry. Like there was a hole in her stomach that could never be filled.

But she’d only be proving everyone else right who had ever distrusted her. And she’d break Connor’s heart if she did it, she told herself. That alone was enough to stay her hand. As hungry as she was, she would not fuck this up. Not for all the human meat in the world. Not even when it was fresh, and warm, still steaming and screaming…

Sighing, she leaned back, and gently pressed her lips against the Destroyer’s neck instead. He didn’t even say a word as she grazed her teeth, nor did he flinch when she bit down as gently as she could. The act was so mundane that the two of them barely acknowledged it. In a way, it was its own kind of intimacy, and that cognitive dissonance of him allowing a demon to feed on him didn’t register. It never did. Out of every feeling he associated her with, disgust wasn’t one of them. The two of lived in their own little world where morals didn’t seem to matter anymore. It was calm, there.

And even with the approach of figures in front of them, it wasn’t easily broken.

It was easy to tell from a distance that these weren’t human. The steps they took were silent, and they moved between the dim lights of the park to avoid detection. As Shift and Connor sat up against the tree in a position that offered them little safety, these creatures split to let one group move silently behind. The presumed ambush would have left undefended victims with no way out by the time they were boxed in and taunted. A good strategy. They were smarter than the average vamp.

Shift’s mouth curled into a smile against Connor’s neck.

Three of them approached from the front with all the confidence of strutting peacocks. The receding figures of the other group darted in and out of the trees, then stopped in the shadows of them behind Connor and her. They didn’t breathe. They didn’t even kick up dead leaves. Motionless, and as cold as ice.

She pulled away to wipe the blood off of her mouth.

“Well, isn’t this just the sweetest?” The one in front of them hissed. In a light jacket and jeans, he drew his head down forward in front of Connor while two of his lackies watched with leering grins. “Couple of lovebirds hanging out late at night. But you two look a little young to be out here all alone. Don’t you think your mommies and daddies might be getting worried?”

“I smell blood,” one said hesitantly.

“Shut up,” the other hissed. 

Already, Connor was shifting to see if he could feel the wooden stake in his back pocket that Angel had given him. Still there. Not in an optimal position, but it was already an advantage. Six of them, and they had lost the element of surprise.

This wouldn’t be much of a fight.

“Not very talkative, are you two?” The leader laughed. “Hey, girl. Your boyfriend’s kind of scrawny, isn’t he?” Tilting his head to the side, he offered a hand to her. “Why don’t you come hang out with us? I promise we’re a hell of a lot more fun.”

The demon pulled herself out of the Destroyer’s arms a full head shorter than the vampire at full height. The vamp grinned and took a half step forward to join her, but she just stood there in front of him, staring up at him with red eyes reflecting dim streetlight that he hadn’t bothered to notice. Behind her the Destroyer rose silently, shoulders hunched.

“Are you blind?” She asked.

“Are you stupid?” He echoed.

“No, serious question. You see glowing red eyes in the dark, and –” She opened her mouth and peeled back her top lip. “Pointy ass fuckin’ teeth, and you still think this is a good idea?”

The vampire’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Maybe we’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding.” 

“A misunderstanding? Or an attempted murder in progress?”

“Listen here, bitch, we didn’t know what you were,” he growled. “But maybe if that’s the attitude you’re going to have, we might as well follow through. This is our turf, you know? You can’t just muscle in.”

She flashed her teeth in a grin. “You didn’t ask me who’s murder it was.”

The vampire knew he was fast. And strong too. There was a reason the others listened. But as he moved forward to grab the girl’s neck in what he thought was a split second, she disappeared. He grabbed at thin air, and then only had seconds to pull back as she jumped back up to her feet and launched herself at him.

The teeth digging into his neck didn’t stop digging until Shift had ripped off that monster’s head entirely. And then he was ash in her mouth, and the two others could only stare dumbfounded. They turned to each other, then to her, and then jumped into the fray with their vamp faces twisted into sickening snarls. 

Connor whipped around to face the three behind the tree that had already phased their faces into their true monstrous visages. With mechanical practice, he pulled out the wooden stake and had it held in a tight fist before the first of them could barrel into him with its arms raised to grab at his neck. He stabbed that one right in the heart, just like he’d been taught, and the thing turned to dust at his feet.

The Destroyer pivoted on his feet to avoid a tackle one of the other two that turned into punches and kicks, then traded blows and danced around their attempts to get him off his feet, all the while looking for an opening. His arms went up against a kick and he used his own force to push it back, sending the monster stumbling several feet back. The creature hissed in rage.

The Destroyer’s lunge with the wooden stake at it missed as the other pulled at his arm to get him off balance, but that closeness what exactly what he needed. As he threw his wooden stake to his free left hand, he stabbed it forward and the surprised creature phased into dust with a satisfying hiss.

He didn’t need to glance Shift’s way as he moved around her. The two of them knew each other’s footwork like it was their own, and they ended up back-to-back trading blows with the four creatures like it was a waltz they’d danced countless times before.

Shift let the vampires get in any hit they wanted. The moment one of them got in close she was digging her claws tight into their necks and tearing at whatever she could touch. Their blood was dust and chalk. Shift had a bad taste in her mouth. This wasn’t optimal. Connor’s wooden stake worked far better. The fire demon kicked one of them back hard in the chest with a leg up in an arc, then held out her hand open-palmed in the Destroyer’s sight.

He didn’t pause in the arc of one of his punches as he threw it to her. The creature fell back a few feet, and Connor frowned. There it was again. He should have broken something with that force, but all he could feel was a bruising blow as the monster went reeling a few feet back.

Shift grinned at the vampire in front of her then grabbed him by the wrist just as she stabbed him right in the chest with her new favorite weapon. The second before the monster turned to dust below, she had launched herself into the air with the decaying monster as a jumping-off point and landed on the other one’s shoulders. The already dazed creature under her was sent sprawling, and she was congratulating herself right up she stabbed down through the heart from above. As the creature turned to dust, she fell to the ground in the midst of it coughing and spitting. Fuck, some of it got in her mouth. That was even worse than blood. Tasted like old mummies and crypts.

“Shift!” Connor called back.

As she pushed herself back up to her feet, Shift threw the wooden stake back up to the kid, who took it and gripped it tight as he turned on the last vampire.

“Wait wait wait!” The creature held up his hands, and the warped face of the demon inside him reverted back to its human self. “Let’s just talk about this! I can- I can help you! Demons gotta stick together, right?”

“I hate demons,” Connor said coldly. A quick jab through the heart was all he needed to send that thing into the ether from whence it came. He watched it turn to dust before his very eyes, and had never felt so satisfied.

Shift ambled up behind him with her hands clasped behind her back as he watched that pile of ash in front of him dissipate from the faint night breeze.

“Hate demons, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” he huffed.

She prodded his chest. “Suuure I do.”

“Most demons aren’t like you,” he argued as he swatted her hand away. “Those are monsters. You’re – you’re you.” 

“Did you not notice the demon that was in the hotel? The green one? He’s not exactly a baby killer. And I’m sure you’ve met Angel by now. And oddly enough, Cordelia –”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. Those demons are okay. I guess. Maybe. … But _these_ ones were trying to kill us. So I’m allowed to hate _them_ , right?”

“I can’t tell you what and what not to hate, that’s up to you.”

He groaned, but she merely stuck her tongue out at him.

“I don’t want to think about that sort of thing anymore,” he grumbled. “We could be doing things instead of just _thinking_ all the time.”

“Are you telling me you’re feeling better?”

Connor could only shrug helplessly and turn to kick the pile of ash left on the ground before it too disappeared into the wind. “No,” he eventually sighed. “But I don’t want to stand here doing nothing.”

“Maybe we’ve had enough time moping,” she said. Taking a few steps out from their tree, she sniffed the night air and smelled only pollution and very early morning baked goods. “The night is still on. What do you want to do?” 

Connor stared down at the wooden stake in his hand, then twirled it in his fingers. It felt good in his hands, but it had felt even better when it had seen use.

The Destroyer pocketed the stake, then started walking down the pathway. “Let’s go kill things,” he said.

The fire demon grinned.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

…

The lights were still on when Cordelia returned to the Hyperion Hotel. Turning them off and getting ready for the car ride home had become somewhat of a ritual for her. The whistle for the end of the workday blew long into the night for the group, so it was always cathartic to turn everything off.

Today hadn’t even been that bad, though. Fred and Gunn had taken the night off, and she might as well have too. A couple hours with Angel was the kind of warmth she hadn’t known she needed, especially with the dark place he’d been in the past couple weeks. 

She smiled to herself.

The two of them just talked. About Connor, about life, about history and where it had led them. It had felt like months had gone by with that vampire on the edge of death from his son’s disappearance, even if it was only days.

But now, things were different. Angel was happy. He smiled. He hummed. He asked about her day. He talked at length for hours about his own. As long as he didn’t end up going soulless and tearing apart the smoothie bar, she was happy to bask in the strange happiness that she hadn’t seen on him in, like, ever. It was a little bittersweet that they weren’t talking about tricycles and when would be a good time for Connor to learn how to swim, but high school was a step in the right direction. The future was back on the table, and a starry eyed vampire planning his son’s life with his kid having literally zero say in it was a pretty cute scene to watch.

Angel was so careful to skirt around the topic of a certain demon that put a hole in many of his plans. But then Cordelia was in the same boat. Everyone felt weird about it. _She_ felt weird about it. Dimensions and time travel and that girl knowing him since he was a baby – none of that gave her particularly good vibes.

But when you have a kid coming right out of a hell dimension looking like a feral cat you just brought back from the humane society, you have to give him a little time. And not take away his emotional support demon. Even if she looked like she was going to murder Cordelia every time she looked her way.

Other than that, it was all sunshine and light. Angel wanted to know everything about the son he’d never grown up with. Would he be into baseball, or was he more of a football guy? Would he be popular at school? What color should he be painting his room? Would he want to go camping? What about road trips across the country?

Cordelia shook her head quietly to herself as she turned off the last of the lights to in Angel’s office. That vampire would be lying awake for hours in his room yet instead of sleeping, just thinking of the million more questions he wanted to ask that poor kid. She was starting to wonder who was more the kid between the two of them.

As the woman grabbed her coat and slung it over her shoulder, then took her purse, she stepped back out into the lobby towards the exit, but something stopped her.

Quiet footsteps from the top of the second-floor balcony descended toward the lobby, then froze at the top of the front steps. The large, imposing shadow made her smile as she turned to face it.

“Angel,” she chided gently. “He’s not back yet. There’s no one to frown at.”

The figure didn’t move, but she danced forward with clicking heels and a childish, lecturing tone, a grin at the edge of her lips. “If you keep spending all your energy thinking of questions and worries, you’re just going to make yourself feel worse. He’s fine, Angel. Don’t make me tuck you back into – bed…”

At the edge of the steps, she stopped just under the face of the Groosalugg.

She stared up at his face for far too long before she eventually thought of something to say.

“… Hi.”

Groo smiled mournfully.

“Hello, my Princess. I believe we should talk.”

…

Lights back on again. Cordelia would not have been able to handle this in the dark. She went through client folders to take the edge off behind the front desk while Groo was off doing… _something_ , and she tried to think of anything but the sinking guilt in her stomach. It wasn’t even that she had forgotten. It was that she had thought of a flimsy excuse not to think of him.

Groo’s heavy footsteps back were like nails digging into her skin. And that kicked puppy look didn’t help either. Carrying a tray of two glasses with a drink the color of mud inside them, he approached down the front stairs lobby from the hotel’s garden and trailed over to her.

Her eyes lingered on him as he walked back in behind the desk, then swallowed all the excuses she wanted to throw at him. “… Hi,” she said as she closed the folder, then placed it down on a table with a bunch of others. “Whatcha got there?”

Groo placed the tray down onto the front desk, then clasped his hands together as he turned back to her. “Well, I know you have grave concerns for Angel’s welfare. So I made some _macna_.”

“Oh.” She smiled placidly. “… _Macna._ ” She looked over to the drinks resting on the counter with a menacing aura. “… Which is…”

“A soothing brew,” he explained with a nod of his head. “To relieve tension.”

“Oh…” She looked at it a little longer with a bitten lip. “It kinda looks like… Muddy water.”

“Yes!” Groo turned back to grab one of the mugs. “The mud gives it, ah, body and flavor.” He brought it up to his nose to scent it, and Cordelia let out a small nervous laugh. “Of course, there is no plotweed in this dimension, so I made do with creeping fig and sour grass from the garden.” He examined the glass thoughtfully. “Though it is not true _macna_ , it is very close to the real thing.”

Cordelia’s nervous grin widened. “So it’s mock _macna_!”

Groo stared at her silently, and her grin slowly faded. That horrific throat closing uppy thingy was coming back again. No matter how much she rubbed her arm, she couldn’t rub off the itching feelings.

“Please,” he finally said as he held out the glass and gestured for her to take it. She reluctantly obliged, then held up the glass in a quick, nervous toast before taking a sip and instantly wishing she hadn’t.

She tried to smile as best she could. “Well, that’s um…” She awkwardly handed him back the glass. “I mean… I can feel the tension draining off already.” The woman coughed as a pebble lodged itself in the back of her throat. “And a little sediment going down the wrong – ” She coughed again, harder his time, then awkwardly looked back to him with a grimace. “Mmm. Tasty.”

She needed to try harder. She needed to try at all.

Groo smiled. “Might I further relieve you by at first gently and then more rapidly rubbing your _shlugti_?”

The grimace on Cordelia’s face dropped as she stared at the Grooslugg and his nervous smile. The longer he held that expression, the worse the silence between them was. But the words were a little harder to come to.

“Uh… I don’t really, um…” She grit her teeth awkwardly, then glanced back to see if anyone was listening in. Thank God almost everyone was gone. “Maybe later, at home.”

Groo’s smile slowly faded into that sorrowful, puppy-dog look, and she bit her lip as she subtly stepped forward. “I don’t feel comfortable doing “it” in the office, Groo,” she whispered.

The Groosalugg’s brow burrowed as he looked down at her. “Doing it,” he echoed.

Cordelia blinked. “Sex,” she said in exasperation.

“Oh, you wish to have sex!?” He exclaimed.

The woman’s eyes bugged. “What? No! Shh!”

Further confused, the Groosalugg leaned closer. “I was proposing a massage of your _shlugti,_ ” he said gently. “Your tense neck muscle. But,” he continued more broadly. “It is always an honor to make sex with you.”

Cordelia stared at him open mouthed.

“But later,” he whispered quietly in her ear with a smile. “At home. I understand perfectly.”

She slowly dipped away from him, and he leaned back to quietly watch her. “So, uh, you wanted to talk, about something?”

“Well, I thought I did.” He took a sip of his _macna_ , then raised it with a smile. He didn’t meet her eyes as he spoke. “But perhaps I was mistaken. The night is young. We could travel home together if you wish.”

Cordelia winced, and looked away. “About that. Groo, I’m sorry for not realizing that you were still here. With Connor and Angel and everything else going on, I thought you’d taken a page out of Fred and Gunn’s book and booked it on out of here back home.”

Groo took another quiet sip.

“This is on me,” she admitted. “Everything was going on, with Angel and Connor and work. But in the end I dropped the ball, and I’m willing to take the hit for that. I feel terrible, Groo. Really.”

“Princess,” he began gently. “I understand that you and Angel are quite close, and you wish to take care of him as he makes this transition to once more to having his son. We are all aware of the effects losing him had, and you most of all.”

“Yeah, it got pretty bad,” she said sheepishly.

“I will not fault you for having your mind in other places.” He smiled. “I find it the utmost honor to take up a place in your mind. I just hope that I take up a place in your mind, at all.”

His smile strained.

“Groo, of course you take up time in my head!” She gently tugged his arm. “I could never, I…” She couldn’t finish that sentence knowing what had happened tonight, so she closed her mouth tight, and slowly let go.

“I know,” he said softly with a smile. “Whatever comes between us, I harbor no ill will toward you, Princess. And I never will.” He placed his half-empty cup back on the tray. “I will leave now. You may follow, if you wish.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, then pressed a light kiss to the woman’s forehead before finally letting go. “I understand if you would not.”

Cordelia swallowed. “Groo, I –”

“Please.” His soft eyes dulled as he smiled at her. “Do not fret for me. I will be alright.”

Cordelia went silent.

There was nothing more she could say.

…

Two cups down and Wesley was starting to think he should have just started with shots. At least then when Lilah approached he would be in a state of mind better equipped to deal with her incessant need to break him down.

The quiet drawl of old music through speakers by the bar was punctuated by the lilting yet purposeful walk high heels across the floor. In the dead of night, only a few old and forgotten men still sat drinking at tables waiting for their last call to be served.

The quiet fanfare was just about all Wesley could stomach after that nightclub. He should have known he shouldn’t have bothered to stick around in public, where Lilah could race after him like a fox with the scent of a rabbit.

The man couldn’t believe the Wolfram and Hart lawyer had followed him here. But then, he should have been used to this by now. It was practically her job to make him miserable. And she was bloody well good at it.

Lilah approached hunched over figure of Wesley and smiled down at the shot glasses surrounding the half-finished glass of beer. “Mind if I join you?” She asked softly.

“On many levels and with great intensity.” One shot glass after another, he methodically poured them into the pint of beer before wrapping his hands around the glass and taking a long drink. As he set it down, he continued to glare ahead at the wall across from him. The longer he stared at it, the more Lilah assumed he was attempting to bore a hole in it.

“How’s your throat?” She asked. “You want a lozenge?”

The wound from Justine’s slicing open of his neck had only just begun to heal properly.

She sat herself down beside him, and he continued to stare ahead into empty space.

No matter how long he sat there, drinking his damned drink, she wouldn’t leave him alone. The woman just talked and talked, about nothing and yet everything she knew would get a rise out of him. Her tactics were as bumbling as they were logical. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if she honestly believed this would get her what she wanted, or if she simply liked to torture him for fun. Knowing Lilah, the latter was just as appropriate.

At least this time there was drink.

“Life’s something, huh?” She eventually remarked, though the thought was not very remarkable. Another half a glass down that was mostly shots, and she never stopped talking, even as the hours wore on. He wasn’t sure why he was still here. Perhaps out of spite. “One day, you’re a pivotal figure in the big battle, the next thing you know, thrown out on your lonesome.”

She leaned in closer as he looked down to his drink. He opened his mouth as though to say something, then closed it. Better not to say anything at all.

“No one even cares what you think anymore – Well…” She shrugged. “I care.”

Wesley looked down hard at the glass in front of him. “You care,” he echoed incredulously. The chill in his voice was broken, and old, but she nodded along knowingly and continued without breaking a sweat.

“As one human being to another,” she said. He turned to glare at her, and she grinned. “Just kidding. I care that your great big brain is going to waste. And, correct me if I’m wrong, isn’t Angel junior a thing without precedent in human history?”

“You’re wrong.” The man took his glass and took another long drink as he returned to staring ahead at that same spot in the wall that had done him wrong. “Mesopotamian. Greek. Hindi. Celtic myth. The bible. Even Darwin also foretold the coming of something that was impossible before.”

“Okay,” she relented. “The impossible is _here._ But what does it mean? Is it the herald of a new age? Better things to come? Or…” she reached over to play with the sugar packets in the center of the table, next to the salt and pepper. “The mass destruction of everything we hold dear?”

Thoughtfully, he watched the wall. The truth of the situation they were in was far more complicated than anything that Lilah could ever imagine. Ever since he’d seen that boy tonight, he’d been thinking about possibilities against his better judgment, and the conclusions were…. Inconclusive, for lack of a better term.

“Yes,” he eventually murmured. “Every child born carries another world, a possibility of salvation, or slaughter.”

“And one born to two vampires carries it in spades,” she added. She took out a few of the sugar packets and began to lay the foundations of something reminiscent of a tower of cards. “Now, my people will be rooting for slaughter. And your people – sorry,” she smiled. “Your former people, they won’t know what to do if things turn sour.”

Wesley swallowed slowly.

“No,” he quietly agreed.

“So, if the kid’s the next Stalin then do you kill ‘im?” She asked as she placed another sugar packet onto the tower.” You can’t! He’s Angel’s son. But on the other hand, if you just watch while he up and kills Angel, or somebody else…” She looked at him closely. “That cute girl, from Texas, say?”

He turned his gaze pointedly back to the wall.

Visceral rage that he had thought was all but burned out from inside him returned like it had never left as soon as those words passed her lips. It worked its way through his veins, and he had to flex his fist from under the table. He struggled just to breathe through those clenched teeth that ground together until it was all that he could hear.

She would not talk about Fred in his presence. That was not a road she wanted to go down. Fred was not to be a part of this.

She gave a fake sigh as he stayed silent. “Wow,” she said, as she placed the last sugar packet to complete the tower. “Times like this, I’m glad I don’t have a conscience.”

Wesley tried very hard to speak clearly. It was difficult to think straight when all his focus was being spent on not wringing that woman’s neck right in the middle of this bar.

“I think you should leave,” he whispered. “Now.”

Lilah bit her lip as she leaned back. Slowly, she raised her hand from the sugar packet tower, and tenderly wrapped her fingers one after the other along the ridges of her neck. The red-glossed nail tips rubbed over her collarbone as she watched him carefully with eyes as hooded as a snake. “What was it like,” she murmured. “When she cut you?”

The arm moved faster than either of them saw coming. Lilah barely had time to do anything more than let out a small gasp as Wesley gripped her throat in a grip as tight as a vice. His cold eyes met with hers, and she felt a shiver go up her spine.

“Are you terribly anxious to find out?”

For the first time that night, there was something in Lilah’s eyes he wasn’t prepared for.

Unfortunately, Wesley was far too drunk for good decisions.


	10. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you are currently looking at is a chapter that is cursed beyond recognition. 
> 
> For 12 days, I have languished over this piece. I have worked tirelessly to make this into something not shit. I have slopped paint onto a canvas and hoped that by erasing it piece by piece I could make something satisfactory. I have failed. Usually, it takes me 4 days to write, and 2 days to edit. I have been editing this for 8 days. 
> 
> I am ashamed of this work. It will not be edited until tomorrow, either. You wanna know why? Because while I was trying to write this piece, my beta got hella depression, my other friend is dealing with multiple medical emergencies, I have had my own health problems, and everything is generally imploding. 
> 
> As I said. Cursed chapter. I am posting it only because I need this curse to end. 
> 
> I may come back to this and rewrite much of it tomorrow. I may end up taking a hiatus because this chapter broke me. At this point, I don't care.

The morning light streamed in from the large windows of the Hyperion Hotel and with it, the scent of coffee.

Gunn and Fred stood pressed up against a table. The funny thing about working for Angel Investigations – nothing much happened some days, especially in the mornings. And with Cordelia’s vision T.V currently on mute, they’d just have to wait. That left a lot of time, and a hell of a lot of time to be paranoid.

Beside him, Fred held up two textbooks the size of her head with the same discernment she gave physics equations. “Hmm,” she mused over one passage, then turned to the other, increasingly unsatisfied. Finally, she gave up and showed the man the two demonic depictions. “What do you think?” 

Gunn examined the first picture, then the second. The moment his eyes caught a few discrepancies, he was already tired and far more interested in the Boston cream donut than the reprinted wood cuttings that must have been more than 800 years old. “I’d say neither,” he sighed. “Both of those have at least two tails. I think I counted about zero on that demon chick.”

“Tails?” Fred fretfully turned back to the textbooks and only now seemed to catch the full picture’s scope.

“She could have one,” Groo called out. From across the lobby, the champion of Pylea carefully went through each piece of equipment in the lit-up weapons cabinet. The war axe he held up glimmered in the faint light as he looked it over, then he pulled back down to shine it a little more with the cloth in his other hand. “When battling a _clupna_ demon back in the smoggy mists of the Pylean swamps, they held hidden tails with stingers on each end. You would not know it until they hit, because they looked just the same as the _morshani_ demon, a far less brutal race.”

Gunn raised an eyebrow. “If she had any stingers, I think we’d know about them by now.”

The woman sighed. “Well, back to the drawing board…”

“Fred, I’m not going to say it’s a lost cause, but Angel’s already let her go. The guy’s just been sitting out there all morning waiting for those two to come back like some dad whose kid’s been out past curfew.” The man leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve tried everything, but if what she said is true, then there’s way more dimensional hopping going on than either of us could understand.”

“Why are we taking what she says at face value anyway? Every time we trust anybody, more often than not it ends up blowing us up in the face.”

“Burying our heads in books isn’t going to solve our problem if we keep coming up with nothing. We have to keep watch for the moment things go south because Angel isn’t going to do that. He’s too busy off in his own world. And I don’t blame him.”

“He did seem really happy,” she said sheepishly. “And out of all the ways things could have ended up, this hasn’t been so bad. For us, I mean, things don’t usually end up going well. And for a kid raised in a hell dimension, well, he’s doing pretty great.”

“Well, you would be the expert on that.” Gunn gently knocked his shoulder against hers.

“And how are we all doing today, ladies and gentlemen?” From the top of the hotel steps, Lorne whirled down the steps with a flourish. That spring in his step seemed a little slower, though. Fred and Gunn exchanged looks.

The Groosalugg turned to the demon, one hand clutching a longsword as the other carefully polished the tip. “It is a day of much turbulence,” he said. “All of us seem in mixed spirits.”

“Definitely a little rattled.” Fred smiled at the Pylean demon as he fixed himself a tall mug of joe.

“Now you’re telling me, Freddo,” the demon said as he took a sip of coffee. “Feels like a whirlwind of a typhoon after a couple weeks of being dead in the water.”

Gunn frowned. “You didn’t happen to get another reading, did you?”

“Nothing new since that lack-of-future future,” Lorne said hesitantly as he reached over to make himself a coffee. “I will admit, our dear leader was quick on the draw, but I know enough from working in this biz that you can get a feel for the kind of people you meet. Between you me, I talked a little one on one with her last night. She’s not that bad, once you get to know her. Just a fish out of water – time, that is.”

“You talked to her?” Gunn narrowed his eyes. “What did she say?”

Lorne shifted uncomfortably. “If any of what she’s said is to be believed, then she spins one dang diddly of a tale.”

“Lorne.” Fred stared at him. “You’re not keeping things from us, are you?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly as the two continued to stare. “It’s not that it’s dangerous, it’s that it’s personal. And I don’t deal in breaking the news when it’s another person’s news to break.”

“Until that demon comes clean on everything she knows, I’m not going to feel comfortable with her roaming around this hotel like she owns the place,” Gunn growled. “I just don’t know why Angel’s just letting things go.”

“Trusting in the one that has kept his son safe is not pitiful.” The Groosalugg interjected, stopping the inevitable blow-up in its tracks. “I do not understand where this hesitation comes from. You all welcomed me with open arms, but you fear this she-demon like she is going to cull you in your sleep.”

“We got to know you first, though,” Fred tried to explain. “I don’t even know this Connor. He’s no different from a stranger.”

Lorne was carefully silent as he sipped his morning coffee. It wasn’t his place, and with enough time, most of them would learn anyways. Patience was the name of the game. “Well, whatever the case,” he finally said. “I’m not sure it’ll matter much what I think soon enough anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Fred blinked at him.

Ah. This was the part he was afraid of. Lorne took a breath and tried to act as nonchalant as he could. Best to take things lightly. A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down. “A friend of mine off in the city of lights opened a club off the strip and I got a phone call asking about a singer and a seer, and I was thinking about maybe doing a little good.”

The look on the woman’s face morphed into shock as she set down the books. Even Gunn seemed taken aback, and Groo dropped his equipment in shock. The champion approached Lorne like a lost puppy.

“What?” Fred gasped.

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you three first,” Lorne quickly said. “Wasn’t sure how I was going to break the news.”

“What about rebuilding your club around here?” Gunn asked. Lorne gave the man who planned a part in one of the numerous times his club was destroyed a pointed look.

“Well, that’s a great idea, lug nuts. Except, every time I do, you all seem to destroy it.”

“It was only… Three… Three times.” Fred bit her lip. “Alright, I get your point. When are you heading out?”

“Well,” the demon pursed his lips together. “About that. Frankly, I’ve been a little torn ever since I got the offer. As much as I’m starting to feel like I should be flying the coop, I know I can still do some good here. I guess I was just looking for a second opinion.” He sighed.

Fred grimaced. “Lorne, if you want to get out there, we’re not going to force you to stay – but if you want to leave because you’re worried you’re not pulling your weight, I’m telling ya right now that’s not true.”

“I appreciate that, pumpkin. That friend of mine on the other line was rather adamant that this was my big chance to make it out there in showbiz, but now… I don’t know.” He clucked his tongue. “Lights, camera, action, and taking a few little fortunes here and there to help out the poor souls down on their luck. I do miss that…”

Gunn’s gaze softened. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I get it, I think. For what it’s worth, though, we’d be happy to have you here. Wherever you end up, we’re behind you one hundred percent.”

The green demon sighed. “Well, I have always been the type to enjoy the spotlight, but maybe I’ve had my time. I don’t know, I’ll have to give it some thought.”

…

In the shadows of the Hyperion Hotel, the lone figure stood against the wall and stared ahead for any sign of the son that had disappeared in the night. Nothing yet. The grinding of the man’s teeth had long since become a habit, but when it came to his son, it was getting worse.

“You know, they’re going to show up eventually,” Cordelia said. “You just need to have patience.”

“They weren’t supposed to be out this long,” he muttered. “Connor doesn’t know the city – he doesn’t even know people.” 

“How much danger could one kid get into?”

The stone face of the vampire was enough of an argument.

“He’s not alone, Angel,” she reminded him.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” He muttered.

Another hour passed by before the two bedraggled figures shuffled back to the hotel like they’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed, no less laughing and joking with each other in ways that the vampire would never understand. Shift covertly removed Connor’s arm around her shoulder as soon as she realized the vampire was watching. When Connor followed her gaze to the front of the hotel, his limitless energy faltered. Staring the source of his anxiety in the face was kind of difficult when he’d spent the better part of last night crying over it. 

As soon as she realized the kid was tongue-tied, Shift brazenly stepped forward with her hands stuffed in her pockets and tried to appear as apologetic as she could. Step one of a long road ahead of her was to be upfront, and not mince words with the man that had the most weight on this kid’s future. “Hey,” she said. “Sorry about the wait.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed. “Where were you?”

“Kind of everywhere? Up and down LA, checking things out. I haven’t been here in eighteen years, man. I needed a good lay of the land.”

“We were out hunting,” Connor added helpfully. He looked to Shift, then pushed his hands into his pockets too. “Vampires.”

“It’s nine in the morning – you were out _all_ night?”

“I wanted to get some training in.” The Destroyer held up his fists with one still clenching the wooden stake. The few blows he shot in the air were tired but accurate.

“Still needs training, if you ask me.” The fire demon grinned teasingly at the kid. But with a murderous look from the vamp, she knew when she wasn’t wanted. The demon padded quickly back into the stuffy hotel to avoid that venomous look. She’d already gotten them more than enough back in Quor’toth.

“Told ya he’d be back,” Cordelia grinned at Angel. Her smile faded, though, as looked after the fire demon breezing past her. The strange side-eye from the fire demon had left the woman oddly cold in the chest. At first, she’d thought she’d imagined it because those red eyes were already pretty unnerving, but she couldn’t ignore it when the girl was literally turning her head to keep looking at her. It was like the demon was scared of _her_ , which didn’t make any dang sense. Cordelia hadn’t even done anything.

She supposed it wasn’t worth bringing up to Angel. After all, it was just a look, and no one trusted her anyway. Besides, as Cordelia turned back to look at the father and son combo, even if Shift didn’t like her, she’d brought back Connor. Seeing Angel with his son again was a special kind of heartwarming.

Cordelia turned back into the lobby to join the rest of the crew. A cup of coffee was starting to seem like a great idea after keeping that vampire company all morning.

Connor went quiet and looked down at his feet. “I… Thought about leaving,” he said. “But I decided I didn’t want to go.”

The vampire’s eyes softened, and the edge of Connor’s mouth turned upward as he looked back up to his father. “I need to keep learning,” he added. “And I thought I’d learn from the best.”

Angel swallowed.

“Well, If you let me, I’d be happy to teach you.”

Eventually, Connor was the one that walked past him. The vampire turned slowly to join the rest of the group, but his mind was elsewhere. Far far away, Angel was planning for a new and brighter future.

The looks from Angel Investigations were nothing new to Shift, but they signalled a bigger problem. Because right now, she was staring down the barrel of a gun. Well, Gunn, to be specific, watching her like she was a stain on his good white shirt from the coffee table while she sat down on one of the lobby’s couches. She would have loved to give him something more offensive to stare at, but she was trying to be on her best behavior.

Now that she wasn’t imprisoned, she was working on trust. Step one, ease the defensiveness. Like a startled animal, don’t make sudden movements, and stay the fuck away from everyone else. Just pretend that she hadn’t been out all night with the kid everyone would have died for two weeks ago, and act as nonchalant as possible. It didn’t take a genius to figure out they had probably been talking about her behind her back, but she couldn’t react. Reaction was the key to more wariness, and she was working on that mutual respect.

Gunn could see the kid approaching for the donuts a mile away, but he still lost a few before he could rescue them from the hungry teen’s clutches.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?” he snapped a half-second before realizing that no one, in fact, had. Connor retreated with the couple he’d pilfered while the man tried to think of a way to backtrack. “I mean –”

“It’s fine,” Connor said. “Sorry. I didn’t have breakfast.” 

“It’s good to see you again, Connor,” Fred hesitated. With a subtle hand, she piled one book on top of the other on the table and nudged them out of sight while Lorne wandered over to the office to man the phones, and Groo trailed back to the weaponry with a more discerning eye in the case of a possible mission. Struggling to think of something to say, all she could do was smile sheepishly and try to seem harmless to a kid she was certain was still reeling from the demon world. “Even if it is like, well.” 

“Like what?” He asked.

Fred bit her lip and tried her best not to stutter. “Well, you must have been through a lot. The last time I saw you, you could fit into my arms. I’m sure Quor’toth was no walk in the park. I’ve been through the dimensional ringer, too, but nothing like that.” 

“Quor’toth was my home.”

“… Oh.”

“It’s been a whirlwind,” Lorne quickly interjected from behind the counter. The hesitant smile worked its magic to disarm the charged atmosphere. “But nice to see our little munchkin back, in whatever form he takes.”

“I would love to train with someone who has spent his time honing his skills in a demon dimension as fierce as the Quor’toth,” said Groo. “There is much that could be learned from your technique.” 

The vampire joined the rest of Angel Investigations with crossed arms. “His _technique_ is going to get him killed,” he added wryly.

Cordelia smiled to herself. “From what I heard, he’s more than a little self-destructive.”

“Self-destructive?” Gunn raised an eyebrow. “How’s that work in a hell dimension?” 

“Charles,” Fred quietly chided.

“What?” Gunn asked.

Fred angled her head meaningfully at the kid that was already beginning to pull further and further from the conversation with repeated glances toward the demon that was absolutely not about to bail him out. “I’m sure that he knows what he’s doing, he’s lived in a hell dimension for eighteen years.”

“Sure,” the man reluctantly agreed. “I guess I’ll just drink my coffee and shut up.”

Lorne couldn’t just stand here while everyone drowned in a lack of interpersonal know-how, so the demon cleared his throat and tried to put his best foot forward. “Well,” he smiled. “Things seem a little chilly, so let’s just start from the beginning, shall we?”

“I already know about you all,” Connor muttered.

The fire demon awkwardly sat up straight. “I mean, I told him about as much of you as I knew. But that wasn’t much, to be fair. I’m working with a very vague second-hand information memory thing going on.”

“Still feels a little weird to have somebody just know you before you know them,” Fred whispered.

The fire demon’s mouth twitched. “I mean, I don’t honestly know if all of you were there, but Connor spoke very vaguely of some of you.” She shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t interact with many of your group other than Connor.”

“Convenient,” said Gunn.

Shift kept her mouth in a careful, easy smile. “Is it though? If I knew anything about you all, it would have made your trust a hell of a lot easier to gain. Instead, I’m just stuck with being as straight with you as possible while you stare at me like I’m about to burn the hotel down.”

“But you’re not,” Gunn said. “Are you?”

“For what fuckin’ purpose, bub? Chaos is fun and all, but I’m _not_ the bad guy here. I dunno how many times me saying that is going to be enough to convince you.” The fire demon settled back into the couch tiredly. “If you want me back in that cage downstairs, just say the word and I’ll be there.”

“Don’t tempt us,” The man retorted.

“Alright,” Angel interrupted. “I think that’s enough, out of all of you.” Gunn crossed his arms, and Shift curled back up into the couch surrounded by black hair that made her look more like a porcupine going through a phase than someone pouting. “I get it. This is going to take some getting used to. I don’t like it either. But we have Connor back, alright?” He gestured to his son with a smile. “And maybe this… person,” he glanced back at Shift, “may not be exactly what we were expecting. But as long as she’s on her best _behavior,_ I’m willing to let her stay here, for now.”

“Angel, you’re really okay with this?” Fred asked. “With her, and Connor?”

The vampire tried very hard not to wince.

“Connor is… Old enough to make his own decisions,” he practically snarled through his gritted teeth. “And I… Trust my son.”

The vampire swallowed, and Cordelia gently patted his back. No matter how many times he told himself this was going to the outcome, saying it out loud never came any easier.

His son having a girlfriend was one thing, but for it to be this immortal, thousand-year-old demon might have been the hardest pill he’d ever have to swallow. He could only hope that Connor would find something else to latch onto with time. God, he hoped the kid would. 7 billion people in this world, there had to be _someone_ healthier for him than _this._ For now, he’d deal with it. As long as he needed to. Someone else looking after Connor was someone he desperately needed.

“As long as she’s under _my roof,_ though, what _I_ say goes. Understand?” He turned back to Shift.

“You’re the boss.” Even the most disarming of smiles on the fire demon looked like the last thing you saw before you were brutally murdered in a back alley, but it got the job done.

Fred and Gunn exchanged looks. The Destroyer’s ear-to-ear grin was the only thing keeping her from going completely insane.

“Alright. Good. Now.” Angel turned back to Connor. “What was that about training, again?”

…

The Hyperion Hotel was still recovering from the sudden displacement and recovery of members and what that would mean going forward. Grief and joviality wasn’t something you just had in quick succession and recovered from, and the mixture of contradictory emotions was made more cutting by all of Angel Investigations standing on the brink of change.

Lorne knew that he wouldn’t be staying here. He was holding out for nothing, at this point. He knew where his heart belonged, and no matter how many times he tried to convince himself, there would always be that little voice in the back of his mind telling him to keep going. Groo knew that no talk in the world would fix the way that Cordelia looked at like she wished she could turn him into Angel. The vampire himself was still trying to reconcile his child with the man that had already come to understand romance. And then there was Shift, still trying to figure out where the hell she fit into this madness. This felt more like a carefully laid out chess game than a series of conversations with real people, and she was real tired of feeling like she constantly had to watch her back.

And Connor? Well, Connor had never imagined he would be learning from his worst enemy. He’d actually imagined the wooden stake in his hand being struck into the heart of the man barking orders at him plenty of times. But then, he never thought training could be this fun, either.

While Angel called out shots and Groo ran back and forth with Fred acting as backup, the fire demon watched from the sidelines in satisfaction. Finally, there was a little synergy going on. Nothing major, and still touch and go, but at least no one looked like they were about to kill each other. She’d call that a win. Gunn got a good hit on the Destroyer, but Connor didn’t even take it hard. The kid just listened to the orders of Angel. Back up straight. Focus on conserving himself. Watch for the civilian, keep his footwork clear and quick, and for goodness sake, don’t let the vampire bite you. While the two went through drills and Angel called out shots, Shift turned to Cordelia resting up against the counter of the front desk.

Suddenly the training montage seemed much further away.

Shit was forever going to be up in the air. The fire demon wasn’t going to be able to rest until Jasmine was dead and the timeline had been thoroughly changed. But even after that, what then?

Connor smoothly avoided a thrown axe in his direction, and in the hand-to-hand combat with Angel, he was already getting better. Shift already knew the kid was a prodigy, but seeing him in action like this always blew her away. People were going to fear him. He had the makings of a real champion, and maybe in this timeline, he’d even be able to experience what that felt like.

Getting him situated in Angel Investigations was giving him the family he needed, and the people that would console him when she inevitably had to leave. And she would leave, one day. When this was over. There was no other way around it. What else could she do? There was a life waiting for her, and she had been ripped away from it. If she did what she was thrown in here to do, then there was nothing stopping that same force of nature from rubberbanding her right back to where she came from. And what would happen to Connor then?

She had to give him the structure to survive that. A life. A family. Something to live for. A future brighter than he could ever imagine.

Shift needed to be a footnote, not the plot. Balancing that with becoming trustworthy to Angel Investigations, though, now that was going to be a fucking feat.

The whole day went by with no new missions and nothing but a thirst from the kid to learn more. Each person took turns playing the victim and the vampire as Angel taught him how to work around captives and civilians. Connor practically shone in combat. Anyone could see it if they had eyes. The Destroyer was meant to be a fighter. Angel worked tirelessly, and time passed like nothing for him and the kid that soaked up experience like a sponge. Some of the crew eventually dropped out as the training grew on. Groo left first, and Lorne headed out soon after, but Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn had stuck it out as long as they could. And yet Connor kept going, and Angel couldn’t be more proud.

“Had enough?” Angel said as he pulled back from the kid up to let him get his feet back under him.

The Destroyer stumbled back up onto his own two feet, then immediately shook his head. The pumping of the blood in his veins was still going strong.

“No,” Connor said quickly. “I want to learn.”

The vampire slowly grinned, then affectionally punched the Destroyer’s shoulder. “Is this kid a chip off the old block or what?”

“He’s chippy,” Cordelia chimed in from behind the front desk.

“Hey, Cor.” Angel pulled away from the crew to give them a couple minutes breather. “We’re going to the movies tonight, do you wanna come?”

“Yeah!” She said quickly, only to deflate a moment later. “… I mean, I’d like to,” she said awkwardly. “I can’t. Groo and I are supposed to… have some one-on-one time.” She nodded to herself. “Y’know.”

“Oh. Right.” There was a strange tug of disappointment in his chest, but Angel tried to ignore it. “You should do that.” He turned away and tried to focus on the smiling face of his son. “Okay.” He slapped his hands together. “Next vampire.”

The fire demon tentatively took a step forward for the first time in what felt like eons. “How ‘bout I finally give it ago?” she asked.

Gunn shifted from foot to foot, and Fred slowly dropped the pillow she had been using for wooden stake protection. Even Cordelia awkwardly coughed. Out of everyone in the room, Connor was the only one that seemed overjoyed at the idea of her finally joining in. She couldn’t blame them. 

“I’m just saying,” she continued. “I know the way Connor fights. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Well,” Fred said tentatively, “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Gunn gave her a look, but the woman shrugged.

Angel crossed his arms, then nodded to himself.

“Fine. You’re vampire number one. Anyone else?”

“… I’ll do it,” Gunn sighed. “But this is the last time. Next time, I’m the _bysitter_ , not the bystander, you got it?” He took up point beside the fire demon. She gave him a tentative grin, and he quickly glanced away from her. “Don’t do that,” he grumbled half-heartedly. After a full day of training, he didn’t have the energy left to be suspicious. “Those eyes make my skin crawl.”

Shift grinned then glanced away while balancing on the balls of her feet. “I’ll be sure to keep my eyes closed and bump into everything when I’m in your presence, kid.”

“Probably make things a lot safer around here,” he muttered back.

She laughed, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’d say a toddler stumbling around with a flamethrower blind is the safest thing you could have,” she drawled.

The man snorted and crossed his arms. “You said that you weren’t going to burn this place down.”

“Well, the night is young. Why, you like barbecue?”

“You keep joking about that and I’m gonna be throwing you back in that cage until you learn to behave.”

“Oh god, I’m so terrified of the jail cell that I can melt with my bare hands.”

“Alright,” Angel interrupted. “Both of you. Let’s try this again. From the top.”

“You heard the man,” Shift teased. “Let’s do this, vamp.”

“Yeah yeah,” Gunn dismissed. “Just stick to your side, and we won’t have a problem.”

Yeah, Gunn still wasn’t quite comfy around her yet. No one was going to be, so long as she was the demon that had taken control of their ex-baby boy. This place was going to be as chilly as Antarctica until the day she finally gave them all a reason to trust her.

But hey, he’d talked to her. And that was a win.

Maybe things were going to be touch and go for a while. Fuck man, maybe they’d be touch and go for a year. But maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

After Quor’toth, things couldn’t get any worse.


End file.
